The Snake Wars Part 1: The Hunt for Harry Potter
by tancredi
Summary: Harry Potter - Naruto. Sequel to Dark Thoughts and Darker Deeds. Two years on, the war is raging. A young man joins an elite wizard force, only to uncover a dangerous secret, while one missing-nin desperately hunts for another in a bid to end the war. R R
1. Selection

**Disclaimer: Unsurprisingly, I own nothing. Naruto and Harry Potter belong to their respective creators.**

**Note: This is the follow-up to Dark Thoughts and Darker Deeds. While this will (in a while) make sense on its own, it would help if you read that story first. This fic is much more HP-centric than my last one, though the Naruto lot will appear later.**

* * *

_Always think geometrically: simple lines leading to complicated solutions._

His grandmother had told him that. His father's favourite saying, cultivated from years of training and operations. The best advice he could have at this stage.

Hidden, he listened to the guards footsteps. As soon as they were level, he swept his leg out. The guard fell heavily. Instantly, he was over him. The guard slumped down, unconscious. He picked up the body and dragged it into a bathroom. He pulled up the robes and sat him on a cubicle, then stepped out and locked the door from the outside. The guard wouldn't be missed for an hour. It was more than enough.

Slipping out, he stalked through the corridor. His gaze was unfocused, seeing every detail simultaneously. The merest flicker made him roll forward into a crouch, waiting. Nothing. He waited still. Finally it came, a black slug like object, worming its way along the corridor. A sweeper. Fighting to stay calm, he considered the options. The sweeper was harmless in itself, but anything it observed was being monitored closely by the security team. He edged away from it. It had a field of about ten yards in every direction. He backed away a little more. It was responsive to sound and heat, and could detect them from up to fifty yards. Heat…

He scaled the wall and wedged himself at the top of the corridor, back pressed up to the ceiling. Extracting a match, he grabbed a newspaper from his pack. He lit the lot. Dropping down, he hurled it as far as he could down the corridor. The sweeper picked it up and immediately followed.

He slowly moved back, waiting for the moment. The sweeper investigated the fire. _Now… _The newspaper exploded. The sweeper was incinerated.

He ran through the corridor, kicked the door open and sprinted up the stairs. The response team would be heading for the incident scene now. Already the monitors would all be switched to the level. The perfect time to become invisible.

He found a grille. Lifting it, he crawled into the shaft. He kept track of the turns, checking against the layout he had memorized. At last he found his destination. He looked through the grille. The target was there. He opened the grille, and dropped soundlessly into the room, behind the target. Before they sensed the change in the air, his arm snaked around them. When it was done, he stood behind the door. Then he screamed.

Two guards burst in. Their confusion lasted seconds, but it was enough. They dropped to the floor with a heavy thud. Picking up a wand, he activated the alarm system. Sirens blared. Tapping his throat, he cast a quick charm, then spoke. "Intruder on the seventh floor! Heading to the back stairs. Man down, repeat, Man down!". Snapping the wand, he slipped out and into an adjacent cell. _Now to wait…_

He could hear the commotion. Running feet, voices, shouted spells. He waited. Finally, when he judged the moment was ripe, he carefully opened the door and moved in the opposite direction to the entrance. He found an emergency stairwell. He ran up to the top. Standard procedure meant that a search would start from the exits, then go up to the building. He arrived at the roof. He saw it. A broomstick, left by the third chimney. He ran towards it. It leapt into his hand.

The world changed…

* * *

"Impressive. No, more than that. Excellent."

He awoke in a small grey room, sparsely furnished with two chairs and a desk. Facing him was a slim woman with long brown hair and bright, amused eyes. He knew her.

"So do I pass?"

The woman smiled. "I think so. That was the best score we've had on Selection since the Captain joined the program."

The Captain. He was almost as good as the Captain. His heart leapt. Everyone knew about the Captain. The man's real name was unknown, though there were strong suspicions. More than suspicions. Everyone was certain he was the one and only Boy-Who-Lived. He was a legend, his name a by-word for daring and cunning. In the two years since the war had began, he had become a hero to the wizarding world.

"What about you? Did I beat you?"

The woman frowned. She stared at him, all humor faded from her eyes. "No. Apparently, in the esteemed judgment of my superiors, I am unsuited to field work. Nothing I can do but work here."

He was surprised. Not just at her admission, but at her attitude. She had changed a lot. He desperately thought of something to say to restore her mood. "Shame. It would have been nice to know that I had beaten you in an exam once in my life."

She laughed. "You've changed, Neville. You really have. I never expected to see you in Selection."

Neville laughed with her. "I know. But I was in the DA too. I was there when we went after the prophecy."

She smiled wistfully. Looking at her watch, she gasped. "We're late. I have to take you to meet the Captain."

He was stunned. "I'm meeting the Captain? Now?"

She nodded. "He specifically wanted to meet you. Insisted on it. He wants to be there when I brief you."

Despite his surprise, he was still aware enough to notice that she got very tense whenever she mentioned the Captain, as if she was speaking about someone she disliked intensely. It didn't make sense. Neville was sure he knew who the Captain was.

_How could Hermione Granger dislike _him_?_

She led him through the corridor. She still seemed tense. His attempts at conversation were refused. They arrived at a door. Before they entered, she stopped him, and pulled him away.

"I'm not going to have a chance afterwards, so I thought I should ask now. After the briefing, would you like to come and meet some of the gang? A lot of them have been looking forward to meeting you."

She passed him a piece of paper. "Ginny and I live here. Come over at about seven. Everyone would be really pleased to see you."

He smiled. "Of course, Hermione. I'd be honored."

She smiled, but still seemed uncomfortable. He was about to ask her why when she grabbed his arm and dragged him into the room.

"Neville Longbottom, sir. He passed selection with a score of ninety-four point two."

The man inside smiled. "Not bad, Neville. Only five points below me. I'm impressed."

Neville was too shocked to speak. Contrary to his expectations, contrary to every rumor, contrary to the hopes of every citizen of the wizarding world, the man at the desk was not Harry Potter.

He was Ron Weasley.

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**Reviews appreciated!**


	2. The Briefing, Part 1 and 2

3

**Disclaimer: Unsurprisingly, I own nothing. Naruto and Harry Potter belong to their respective creators.**

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Ron's voice seemed to come from another continent. "Sit down, Neville. It's time to begin the briefing."

Neville felt numb, lacking in control. His body moved jerkily as he pulled the chair and sat facing his one-time schoolmate. He blurted out the first thing that came to his head. "What about the others?"

Ron smiled. "There were no others. Everyone else failed."

Neville nodded dumbly. Ron continued. "First of all, I'd like to congratulate you. Not only did you survive the three month program, you passed the final test with flying colors. You showed high physical aptitude, resourcefulness, intelligence and, most importantly, the ability to function well without the use of magic."

He leaned in, and gave a conspiratorial wink. "That's where everyone else failed. Guess being almost a Squib turned out handy, huh?" He laughed. Neville joined him weakly.

"Seriously though, you did very well. You are exactly the kind of person we need. So welcome to the Unit."

He extended his hand. Neville shook it. He was beginning to snap out of it now, recovering from the shock. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but Ron stopped him. "Questions at the end, Neville. Listen first."

Ron opened a drawer, and pulled out a large file. "First comes the technical stuff. There's a bunch of stuff to explain, but frankly, only a troll wouldn't learn it from reading the file. So read this when we're done. It covers operating protocols: basically, what we can and can't do. The long and short of it is there's a lot of the first and almost nothing of the second." He presented the file to Neville with mock solemnity. Neville took it.

"You will be housed in an apartment within a reasonable traveling distance. Your first assignment is to come up with twelve non-magical and eight magical routes into work using only transportation that would cause no comment. Make sure you know every detail of how you can get to and from the base, from the names of the shops you pass to the exact times of each route. Trust me, it will save your life."

He paused, and sipped from a glass of water. Neville waited. Ron gave a slight start, and looked at the door. "Hermione?!" She came in, a sour look on her face. Ron grinned at her, then looked at the new recruit. "Drink, Neville? Ask Hermione if you want anything."

Neville smiled at her. "Tea, please." She grunted in acknowledgement, then stalked out. Ron watched her leave.

"What's wrong with her?" asked Neville. Ron looked at him. "She's bitter. Mostly because I'm her commander." Something in Ron's voice told him to drop the subject. He shifted in his seat, and Ron continued the briefing. "Every morning, you come in at 6 o'clock sharp, and await instructions. If you're not on assignment, you'll be brushing up on your skills, or learning some new ones. Assignments take a variety of forms. They can range from something as simple as guard work at the Ministry to solo missions against the enemy. I'll decide what you do, so any complaints, you can bring them straight to me. Not that I'll listen."

He was different, Neville decided. Brash, articulate and with a mocking edge to his words that he wasn't sure he liked. Definitely not the same guy he had known.

"That's pretty much it. The file has all of this, but in more detail. Now, any questions?"

Neville considered this. "How many do I get?"

Ron laughed. "As many as I want to answer. So don't waste time. Ask away."

Neville asked the question that had been plaguing him since his arrival. "Why does everyone think you're Harry Potter?"

Ron stopped smiling. "If I had a Galleon for every time I heard that… Listen. We're at war. Sometimes it's necessary to make a person believe something that isn't true for their own benefit. Half the wizard world thinks Harry Potter is a savior. The other half say it out loud. It's too much. If the Snake's men got him, it would be a disaster. So he's working high up in the Ministry, safe from harm, while I attract the spells and knives of every Death Eater and Shinobi that the Snake has under his command."

Neville nodded. It made sense. And it relieved him to know that Harry was somewhere safe. He thought about his next question. "Who else is here that I know?"

Ron's grin returned, as if it had never been away. "A whole bunch, old man. A whole bunch. Let's see.. well, you've met me and Hermione… Ginny works under Hermione, Dean Thomas is one of us, so is Seamus, and Lee Jordan, and the Patils… Oh, Ernie Macmillan too… Doesn't matter. It's unlikely you'll see a lot of them anyway. They're all on assignment."

Neville knew better than to ask where. He struggled to think of more questions. Ron was getting impatient. Finally, after a long silence, the red-head stood. "Well, you'd best be on your way. I'll get Hermione to sort out any more details." He looked at the door. "HERMIONE!!"

They heard footsteps, and the door opened. Hermione slipped in, scowling. "What?!"

Ron's features settled into a vicious smirk. "You didn't bring Neville his tea. At least have the courtesy to help him get settled." She nodded, and turned to leave. "Oh, and Hermione?" She turned back. "Make sure you do a good job. I know you non-field agents. Always slacking off."

She stared murder at him. He turned to Neville. "See you in the morning." He extended his hand again. Neville shook it.

* * *

Hermione was muttering under her breath. "Arrogant, puffed up, jammy little… I ought hex him to the end of the next century. Boils… or spots… or both…." Neville stared at her, both worried and perplexed. Of all the things to happen, he never expected the Golden Trio to be broken up, and definitely not like this: Harry stalking the corridors of power, Ron a daring hero and Hermione a bitter desk worker.

Hermione was calming down. She had stopped muttering, and the murderous expression on her face was fading. They arrived at her office. Neville followed her in.

"What's wrong, Mione? My brother being an arse again? Wait… Neville?!"

Neville grinned. "Hi, Ginny."

Suddenly she was hugging him. "It's so good to see you!!!"

Hermione sighed. "Calm down Ginny. I did tell you about this."

Ginny let go of a somewhat bemused Neville. "I know, but it is good to see him. It feels like its been ages." She went back to her desk. Hermione gestured to a chair. Neville sat. She passed him a glass of water.

"Thanks."

She smiled, and turned to Ginny. "Yes, it was your idiot brother. Merlin alone knows why he's in charge. I swear, he gets more insufferable by the minute!"

Ginny nodded sympathetically. "He always was a pain. Really, he's as bad as Percy."

A silence ensued.

Eventually, Hermione snapped out of her mood. "Neville. Here are the details of your residence. It's in reasonable shape, but Dean had it last, so you might want to redecorate. He won't need that stuff anymore. Here's the address, keys and blueprints of the house."

Neville took them gratefully. "What about my stuff?"

"It's already been taken there."

Neville nodded. He rose to leave. Ginny was in front of him. "You are coming tonight, right?" she said, fluttering her eyelashes. "It would be so nice to see you…"

Somewhat disconcerted, Neville nodded. "Great!" she said happily. "Come at around seven."

Hermione was shaking her head. Neville walked out of the office. Things really had changed.

* * *

The thought came again.

He had been at Hermione's for a few hours, talked a few people he knew vaguely and been introduced to some new faces. Now he sat nursing his Firewhisky and watched the people around him. The place was nice. The furniture was mismatched but comfortable, and the room was light and airy. Ginny had conjured up a tasty buffet, and was now on a sofa, flirting outrageously with Dawlish, an ex-Auror who was currently unassigned. Hermione wandered around, chatting to people. _Things have changed_. Of course, it was only to be expected. They weren't at Hogwarts any more. This was the real world, and there was a war going on. But still…

Hermione wandered over. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

Neville grinned. "Of course. Thanks for having me."

She smiled back. "Well, I'm sure you've met some interesting people tonight."

Neville nodded. "Yeah. But I'm surprised… I thought there would be more of us."

Hermione looked confused. "What do you mean?"

Neville looked at her. "From Hogwarts. From the DA."

Hermione's smile faded. "Well, a lot of them are on assignment…" She seemed uncomfortable. She glanced over to the drinks table. "Oh, drat. We're out of Butterbeer. I should go and get some more…" She moved to the centre of the room. "Sorry to bother you everyone, but I'm just going out to get some more Butterbeer."

Neville stood. "I'll come with you."

Hermione turned to face him. "No, really, it's fine, it's only fifteen minutes away…"

"Nonsense. I insist."

Ginny laughed. "Good one, Neville. I guess chivalry isn't dead after all!" a few people laughed. Hermione moved to the door. Neville followed.

They walked out into the street. Hermione still seemed uncomfortable. "This way…" She turned a corner, Neville a few steps behind. She stopped, then looked around. Then she drew her wand.

Before Neville could say a word, her hand was over his mouth. Grabbing hold of his arm, she turned on the spot.

Feeling slightly nauseous, Neville looked around. They were in another alley. Hermione let go of his arm, and motioned to follow in silence. They came to a door. She knocked once, then twice, then once again. The door unlocked. She gestured at Neville to wait, and entered. Slightly annoyed, Neville peered through.

He heard a whispered conversation, too indistinct to catch, and caught a glimpse of Hermione locked in an embrace with someone. He felt excited. _It must be Harry!_

Yet again, he was wrong. As Hermione pulled away, the mystery man was revealed.

Ron Weasley.

* * *

Neville marched through the door. Still holding Hermione, Ron grinned at him.

"Sit down. And no questions. We don't have long."

Neville sat. He was more than annoyed. He felt like he'd been played for a fool. Ron and Hermione kissed again, then they sat opposite their former schoolmate.

"What happened today was the official stuff. Now comes the real deal. Everything you have seen and heard was done purely for the benefit of others. I'm being watched. So are Hermione and Ginny. The Ministry is keeping tabs on us. Hence this meeting here, in a place we know they can't track us."

To say Neville was shocked would have been to call the sun mildly warm. Ron continued. "About a month after he turned seventeen, Harry Potter disappeared. The story I told you, that he's working for the Ministry, is a lie they told me to stop me from looking. Ever since it happened, I've been trying to find out where he really is. But things are getting trickier. I'm under heavier surveillance. My ability to act is impeded. Moody is demanding a sign-off on everything. My people are being scattered, hand-picked for assignments to keep them far from me. The reason me and Hermione act the way we do is to prevent any suspicion that we might be working together. We faked a bad break-up, and began the sniping. If not for that, Hermione wouldn't be here."

He paused, and looked at the girl in question. "By the way, sorry about today." She smiled fondly at him. He looked back at Neville, who as open-mouthed with surprise. "We're running out of time. We need to move, and move fast. I was the one who orchestrated your acceptance to the Unit. I needed someone I could trust, someone I knew. When I saw your test score, I was certain you were the one."

Neville found his voice. "The one for what?"

Ron leaned forward. "Listen to me Neville. We aren't playing anymore. This isn't sneaking food from the kitchens, or larking around with joke shop tricks. This is the Department of Mysteries all over again, only this time we don't have Dumbledore to save us."

He paused, and looked Neville in the eye. "I'm giving you your assignment, soldier. Your mission is to find Harry Potter. I don't care how, I don't care what you do or who you kill to do it, but you do it."

Neville didn't flinch. "I'll do it. You can count on me."

A ghost of a smile flashed across Ron's face. "Dean Thomas spent some time working on this. All he could find was a reference to a place. The Long House. We don't know what it is. The only cross-references are ultra-classified Ministry intelligence. Not even Hermione could break through the ciphers. That's your starting point."

Neville nodded. "What happens from now?"

Hermione took over. "Officially, you've been selected to go on the liaison program in Konoha, there to study shinobi methods. Only the best operatives are selected for this, but with your score, we can justify it to Moody and the Ministry. You'll be gone for three months. That's your time limit. If you don't finish within that time, then that's it. This is our only chance."

Neville swallowed. Three months. It seemed a long time, but it would pass in the blink of an eye. Three months…

Hermione was speaking. "Don't expect any help from us. Once you're gone, that's it. Emergency, and I really do mean emergency, communication only. You're cut off from Ministry resources. And to be on the safe side, you'll need to hand your wand in. The Ministry knows its signature. They can track it. Ideally, avoid using magic unless absolutely necessary."

Neville grinned. "No magic, no help… Forget the Department of Mysteries, this is more like a death sentence!"

Ron smiled. He could appreciate Neville's position. "Well… you will have some help."

Neville looked at him quizzically. Hermione laughed. "Haven't you realized where we are?"

Neville took a good look at the surroundings. The furnishings were not typical, and there were a few plants he recognized as…

Eastern?

He turned back. Ron was chuckling silently. Hermione was struggling to avoid joining him. "We're in the Konoha embassy. The only place in London the Ministry can't cover."

Neville grinned back. "And the help is…"

A figure stepped out from the shadows. Neville leapt of his chair. He hadn't noticed anyone else in the room apart from his friends. Ron was laughing openly. The newcomer was not tall, and fairly slim, with hair pulled up at the back. He wore a dark green vest over loose black clothing, and a steel band bearing a leaf symbol tied to one arm. Ron walked over to him, and the two clasped hands warmly. "Thanks for this. I owe you one." The newcomer smiled. "Don't mention it, Weasley-san." His English was good, only a small trace of an accent.

He turned to Neville. "Weasley-san has briefed me on your mission. I will be acting as your contact and occasional partner for this mission. I am Nara Shikamaru, a shinobi of Konoha."

Neville shook his hand. "I'm Neville Longbottom."

Ron looked at them both. "We've gotta finish up. Neville, report as usual tomorrow. From then on you'll be with Nara. Hermione, take him back."

The two of them left. Shikamaru and Ron watched them leave.

Switching to his own language, Shikamaru spoke. "You're sure he can manage this?"

Ron nodded. "I hope so. If what you've told me is correct, things are about to get a lot rougher."

Shikamaru frowned. "If you don't mind me asking, why is this Harry Potter so important? Is he some super-wizard or something?"

Ron looked at him. "Do you have a special person, Shikamaru?"

The shinobi nodded.

"Wouldn't you move the earth to save them?"

The shinobi nodded again.

"So would I."

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**AN - **Ideally should be read with the Bourne music playing in the background... ;p  
Hope you enjoyed! Tell me what you think!


	3. The Sick Man and His Friend

3

**Disclaimer: Unsurprisingly, I own nothing. Naruto and Harry Potter belong to their respective creators.**

* * *

The room was bright and airy. The curtains billowed in the gentle breeze as the sun streamed in from the French windows, sparkling on the last vestige of morning dew that hung from the lilies and orchids on the balcony. An armchair was positioned in front of the balcony, the patient sunk deep in thought as the sun warmed him. He listened to the birdsong and the muted whoops of the children playing in the garden. He was content. Things had rarely been this peaceful, and he was quite prepared to enjoy them while they lasted.

He felt a shift in the air. "You're early, Mr Hay."

The newcomer wandered over to the patient and pulled up a chair. "It happens."

The patient smiled. "I won't tell anyone."

The patient rang a bell. A few moments later, a nurse came in. "May I help you, Mr Underwood?"

The patient gave her a warm smile. "I would be most grateful if you could bring some tea for myself and my friend."

The nurse nodded and left. The newcomer watched her leave. "Good service. Not surprising, considering the damage on this place."

The patient shrugged. "It helps."

The nurse returned with a heavily laden tray bearing tea and some cakes. She placed it on a table near the two men. "Will there be anything else?"

The newcomer shook his head. The patient gave her another warm smile. "No, thank you." The nurse nodded. "Remember you have your physio in two hours, so don't tire yourself out." She left, skirts swishing slightly.

The atmosphere in the room changed subtly. The newcomer poured two cups of tea and gave one to his friend. They were silent for a few moments, each sipping their tea. The patient spoke. "One, two, three…"

The newcomer finished his sentence. "A friend for a brother, a brother for me."

Making a quick series of gestures, the newcomer whispered softly. Anyone walking past would have been treated to the sight of two men talking animatedly about dog breeding, and would have left none the wiser. Even a skilled and highly trained observer would have had trouble detecting the illusion, and more trouble dispelling it without notice. It was a most effective deception.

"Your genjutsu has improved a lot, Kakashi."

Hatake Kakashi grinned at his friend. "I had a good teacher."

Itachi smiled back briefly, but then frowned. "What's happened that is so urgent you came a week early?"

Kakashi's grin faded. "I've found him."

Itachi was shocked. "What happened? Did he get away?!"

Kakashi shook his head. "I've set a trap for him. He'll be looking for me. If he's as smart as I remember, I should have him by the end of the week. Then we can proceed as planned."

Itachi nodded. "Good. What about _him_?"

Kakashi caught the subtle emphasis. "He took Sasori's place, or will do soon. He's masquerading as a strong moron, giving Deidara the worst possible time."

Itachi looked surprised. Kakashi continued. "The group has been reassigned. Kisame is alone now. He's still looking for you, not openly, but I can tell his handiwork."

Itachi nodded. "That makes sense. Kisame knows _him_ from before."

Now it was Kakashi's turn to be surprised. Itachi continued. "You didn't know? _He_ used to be the Mizukage."

Both men were silent for a few moments. Then Itachi asked: "What about the war?"

Kakashi looked worried. "It's strange… The Snake seems to be tied up in the Five Countries. There was a rebellion in Hidden Sound, and now his wizards and what remain of his shinobi are bogged down there. He's taking attacks from the Leaf and the Sand, and it looks like Raikage has decided to get stuck in. He sent a party to join an assault on a Hidden Sound outpost, and seems to be willing to work with Tsunade. If he had fewer men, he'd be on the verge of defeat now, but no matter how many he loses, he always seems to find more."

Itachi nodded. "But?"

Kakashi sighed. "It's just a rumor. They say… They say that Hidden Rain is with Hidden Sound. Which does seem unlikely, but… They also say that Hidden Sound has a Jinchuuriki."

Itachi considered this. "It's possible, but I doubt it. Pain might help Voldemort, but not to the point of giving him a bijuu. Too dangerous, and it would conflict with _his_ plans. What about the West?"

Kakashi chuckled derisively. "Both sides are equally incompetent. It's been stalemate since Voldemort went East. His subordinates have been useless, lacking ideas beyond a loud statement once in a while. Sadly, his enemies are equally stupid, too concerned with their own problems to realize the enemy is there for the picking, with a few exceptions."

Itachi nodded. "Very well. Keep me informed."

Kakashi stood. "What about you?"

Itachi smiled sadly. "I'm… getting there. But it's unlikely I'll ever be back to full strength. And my chakra is depleted. My Sharingan is now worse than it was when I was ten. But, with time, it should recover."

Kakashi nodded in understanding. "Are you going to be strong enough for the next stage?"

Itachi didn't speak. He stared out of the window. A bird settled on the balcony, shaking itself. Finally, as if from far away, Kakashi caught his words. "I pray so. But if not…"

He looked back at his friend. "That's why we need Sasuke."

He stared back at the balcony. The bird had gone.

"Tell me, Kakashi. Do you ever regret joining me? Actually, don't answer. I'm not sure I'd believe your answer."

Kakashi bade farewell and released the illusion. He walked out of the door and down to the exit.

* * *

A few days later, he was in a cheap roadside café, thirty miles from London, sipping a Coke. Mentally, he went through the plan. Satisfied that he had covered all the angles, he looked out of the window.

_Do you ever regret joining me?_

The question was a strange one. He wondered what his life would be like if he had declined the offer, and gone back to Konoha. Would he be leading his team in raids against the Sound? Or would he have been posted to Britain, to treat with the allies? Kakashi had done a good job of keeping himself informed. He had heard that Gai and his team had been assigned on a three month stint to Hogwarts, to act as ambassadors for the Hidden Leaf. He pictured himself in that role. He laughed. A nearby customer gave him an odd look. He ignored it.

_Do you regret…_

Of course it was hard, being away from the village. He wondered how his genin had taken the news of his death. Naruto would have raged, lashing out at Jiraiya, Tsunade and everyone around him. Sakura… she would have been calm, at least outwardly and for a little while, but then she would have wept… He felt bad for them. _It would be nice,_ he thought, _to see them again_.

A few weeks ago, he had passed the Konoha Embassy in London. It had taken all his strength not to walk in and greet his friends and comrades. He knew them all, some by sight, others familiar as his own face. Shikamaru, all lazy scruffiness. Hinata, confident and mature, in full possession of herself. It was hard not to pop in front of them, see the shock on their faces turn to pleasure as they realized he was alive…

_And see the pleasure turn to dismay as they realize you're a missing-nin_…

There it was. The hardest part. _A shinobi without a village is like a sword without a sheath_. _It does harm to everyone without thinking, just by its nature_. His father had told him that, many years before. _I'm not a missing-nin_, he told himself. _I'm just…_ Another voice cut in. _Just what? You left your village, you faked your death. Sure, you might be doing it for the right reasons, but you know that Zabuza thought the same. Once you leave, you can't go back. You'll take small steps, hard at first, but easier, until one day the hunters are after you and you look in the mirror and all you see is a murderer. A criminal. Scum…_

He shook his head, trying to remove the thought, but it remained. A vision that had tormented him for months now, a nightmare that troubled his every sleeping moment.

_It always began the same way…_

_He stood on a plain. There were two ANBU before him, their voices muffled by their masks. "Hatake Kakashi. By command of the village, I must bring back your head."_

_He tried to smile. "Look, I'm sure we can make a deal here… You don't have to do this…"_

"_No deals, criminal. The Hokage has ordered it."_

_This one's voice was a little higher. A girl?_

_The two ANBU attacked. In a flash, it was over. One of them collapsed, a kunai buried in their throat. The other hung in mid-air, impaled by Kakashi's arm. Their masks fell off. He saw their faces._

_Uzumaki Naruto and Haruno Sakura..._

Kakashi shivered. He knew it was stupid, and told himself so at every occasion. After what Itachi had told him on that night so many months ago, he knew he was doing the right thing. No one else was even aware of the threat they faced. Orochimaru was a child's tantrum by comparison. Even Pain, with his grandiose ambitions, was but a marionette show when faced with _him_…

He looked at the clock. _Time to move._ If all went well, Sasuke would be his by nightfall.

* * *

The figure stood on the ledge, staring at the ground twenty stories down. Even here, he could pick out the each footstep of each person on the street below. He looked up. The rooftop was around ten stories below him, and was over thirty meters away. He turned, and walked back.

The contact spoke. "So what now?"

He ignored him. Turning, he drew his chokuto. "Now you watch."

He ran.

Arriving at the edge, he sprang off it, body arcing gracefully and sword trailing behind him. He landed in a crouch and immediately rolled forward, before springing to his feet. He waited. No sound. He had timed it perfectly. Now he was within the wards, with none the wiser. He saw the door on his left and sprinted towards it, noiseless over the rooftop. The target was on the ninth floor, in a large bedroom. If the intel was correct, he was alone. He opened the door and sprinted down the stairs. Arriving at the ninth floor, silently slipped the catch and went in.

He paused a moment to get his bearings, then slipped through the shadows to the bedroom door. He went in and saw what he wanted: the adjoining door to the master bedroom. He focused for a moment, completely diminishing his presence till he could walk past his own mother and not be noticed. Then he slipped through.

The target faced a mirror, his broad back to the door. The deed was done in an instant. The target never even realized it. The sword stuck out from his chest as the knife sawed across his throat. As a last flourish, the assassin carved a stylized snake into the man's back. They would know whose handiwork this was…

He cleaned his sword and turned to go. Something felt odd about the room… It was probably nothing.

He was half-way to the door when the spell struck him.

* * *

Kakashi waited impatiently. His man was late. He tapped his foot. _What could be keeping them?_

The plan had been a good one. Sasuke had made quite a reputation as an assassin, no questions asked, no job too big, any bidder welcomed. His only condition was that they provide him with information that might lead him to his objective. Kakashi had set a false trail in motion months before, setting up a network of contacts in the Wizarding underground, among the shinobi and even in the non-wizard criminal West. A while ago, one of them had come back to him. Since then, Kakashi had been following Sasuke's movements, feeding him the desired information until he judged the time was right. The man he was using tonight was perfect: corrupt, stupid and a coward. Exactly the kind of man who would give Sasuke the wrong information for a bribe, then scurry back to Kakashi with some implausible story, while Sasuke followed him from the shadows, led straight to what he thought was his brother by the fool whose death was sealed the moment he met the young Uchiha. He wouldn't be missed.

He heard footsteps and heavy breathing. He sighed. _Maybe I misjudged him…_ He readied himself for whatever stupidity the contact was about to utter.

The contact came in. Fear had twisted his features to a revolting slackness, his face was red with the effort. "Well?" Kakashi snapped.

It took the man a minute before he could speak. "They… They took him!!!!"

Kakashi was stunned. "What?!"

The man was terrified. He choked on his words. Kakashi saw red. Grabbing the man by his collar, he slammed him against the wall. "Tell me!"

The man stared at the jounin, panting. "They took him… Six wizards. Six! From the Snatchers!"

Kakashi frowned. "The Auror Special Forces?"

The man shook his head, his eyes bulging in fear. "No… Ministry Intelligence… Almost no one knows about them…"

Kakashi didn't bother to ask the man how he knew. Stupid though he might be, he was highly placed in the Ministry, a corrupt official with his fingers in more pies than was good for him. He let the man go. "What do you know about them?"

The man took out his wand and conjured a large glass of whisky. Downing it, he continued, his voice calmer. "They're the blackest of the black… Fudge created them before the war, to deal with unsavory elements in the Wizarding world. People he didn't like. They exist to make people disappear. Not die, but disappear. They're the best kept secret the Ministry has."

Kakashi stalked the room. "What else?"

The man conjured another glass. Distractedly, Kakashi noticed he didn't deign to offer one. "They're run by a woman. Not sure who. Apparently she's a real head case. Vicious. Even though Fudge stepped down, she's continuing his dirty work. Wants to see him back in power."

Kakashi began to understand. He was reminded of Danzo's pets back home. Similar methods, similarly secret. "What will they do with him?"

The man was silent. Kakashi stared at him. Despite his fear, the man showed a different expression on his face. It took the white-haired missing-nin a while to place it. It was…

Pity.

The man spoke. "They'll take him there…"

His voice trailed away. Kakashi rounded on him. "Where?" The man stayed silent. Kakashi picked him up and slammed him into the wall again. "Where?!" Still the man didn't speak. Kakashi drew a kunai and leveled it at his eye. "Where, dammit!! Tell me or I swear I'll cut it out and make you eat it!"

His voice quivering with terror, the man mumbled. "What?!". The man repeated his words. Kakashi strained to hear them.

"The Long House… They'll take him to the Long House…"

Kakashi let him go. The man fell on his knees, gasping for air. He weighed up his options. Finally, he looked at the fat man blubbering on the floor. He made a decision.

An hour later, a passerby found a dismembered hand

* * *

**A/N: a change of view here, and a return to my favourite character to write. Plus, the first look at the new Sasuke!**

**Thanks for all the reviews! I hope people can start putting the pieces together. I know there's a lot of questions to be answered, and I'll try and deal with them as best I can, but some things will be left till late, so anyone who can't wait, feel free to pm me!**


	4. A Gift of a Leaf

3

**Disclaimer: Unsurprisingly, I own nothing. Naruto and Harry Potter belong to their respective creators.**

* * *

He held the glass, staring at it. His face, reflected a million times over in the crystal, stared back. The amber fluid swayed gently. _So many years, so many roads, so many times… _He laughed. Raising the glass to his lips, he tilted his head back and gulped the liquid down. It burned like fire, aptly, considering its name. He placed the glass carefully on the counter and signaled to the barman for another. _What's his name? I've seen him before, I've spoken to him… But I can't remember his name._

The barman brought him his drink and moved away. "Hey… What's your… I mean, I don't mean to be rude, but what's your name?" The barman frowned at him. He stared back, bemused. "No, seriously… What's your name?" Twisting his lip with contempt, the barman spat out a reply. "Michael Corner. As you bloody well know."

He was shocked. "Hey, Mickey… can I call you Mickey? Wow, it's been ages… How, I mean, how come you're… I mean, you're doing a great job, but…" Corner looked stunned. "You don't even remember?"

He shook his head. Corner laughed. It was a bitter laugh, he thought. Like tonic water. "You're bloody sister dumped me. I got depressed. Flunked half my NEWTS. Now I'm here. So thanks a lot, Ron. You and your bloody clan."

Ron spoke hazily, swaying on his stool. "Yeah, she can be a real bitch sometimes. I don't even like her much.." He leaned in closer, and grinned. "Hell, if she wasn't my sister, I'd probably jinx her arse to next full moon! Bitch deserves it!" Corner grinned back. "You're right, Weasley. Maybe you're not so bad after all. Tell you what, that one's on the house."

Ron bowed in thanks, and nearly fell of his stool. Corner moved away. _Moron_, thought Ron. _You failed your NEWTS because you spent too much time taking illegal potions and not enough time studying._ He sipped his drink. He could feel the gradual numbness building up, and knew that he was definitely getting drunk. He welcomed it. He turned to look around the room. _Lessee what the talent's like… _The place wasn't great. Most of the girls there were with someone, almost no one on their own. Except one… She was sitting in a booth, clearly waiting for someone. She looked bored. And she didn't fit in. She wore a lovely set of robes, but the cut was subtly wrong, and while she could pass for a native to the untrained eye, there was an unmistakable foreignness to her features that someone with a talent for that sort of thing could spot. Then there was her hair. Young people's fashion rarely caused comment, but pink hair was still unusual.

Ron grinned broadly. _Shikamaru, you sly little so-and-so… You didn't tell her!_ He considered his options. The simple approach was acceptable, but far too boring. Hitting on her would be a lot more entertaining.

* * *

Haruno Sakura was bored, tired and frankly willing to leave, Tsunade or no. Shikamaru had been distinctly unhelpful, despite the importance of her mission, telling her to go to a bar on her own and wait for her contact. She had protested, but Shikamaru had told her: "He's a very idiosyncratic guy. Hates formality. It's best to do this in an informal place, or he'll never show." She had, reluctantly, bowed down to her colleague's superior knowledge. Now, she regretted it.

She scanned the bar again. No one. She knew that one could not always judge by appearances, but still… She remembered the first time she read the dossier. There was no picture, but the words said more than enough. Captain Ron Weasley, the only wizard to be classed as S-rank among their allies, and not because of his magic. Indeed, as Sakura understood, he was considered only proficient in that regard. What made him so dangerous was his other abilities. A strategic genius on a par with Shikamaru. Exceptional physical ability for a wizard, especially in Taijutsu, the result of a three-month intensive course Maito Gai had instituted during his stint as ambassador to Hogwarts. Only Ron and one other had finished the course, and Ron was the better of them. But his true deadliness was in his adaptability. Shikamaru described him as being able to think in straight curves, a metaphor that captured the man's unconventional approach to combat. Some of his plans seemed Genin-level on first view, but once examined proved to be far beyond ANBU standards. The man was… unique. All in all, a worthy recipient of the honor the Hokage wished to confer upon him.

She checked her bag. It was still there. The unprecedented gift from a Hokage to an outsider. Only once had it happened before, and that had been to another shinobi. _But he deserves it,_ she thought. _He's done some amazing stuff here, on such poor resources._While a shinobi could work with high-level operatives, most of Weasley's staff were poorly trained and terribly unsuited to their roles, and yet his missions had a higher success rate than Konoha's. He had never lost an operative, and only once failed in his objective – and that failure was even more indicative of the man's brilliance. She knew the case well. He was on a recon mission with four team-mates. The place was supposedly unguarded. The intel proved false. Three squads of Sound-nin's found them. Somehow, the man had organized a fighting retreat against superior numbers, eliminating two of their squads and leaving the third in chaos, all without his team getting a single scratch. Sakura struggled to name anyone in Konoha who could match that, with the exception of Shikamaru. Indeed, the similarities between the two extended to their mutual love of games.

She noticed a man walking towards her. He looked drunk. Very, very, very drunk. His hair was bright red, and his face was full of freckles. _You can't be serious…_ Despite that, he was good-looking, with a warm smile and bright eyes. He sat down next to her. She cleared her throat. "I'm expecting someone."

"I know," he said. "You've been waiting for me all your life, right?"

She gave a sarcastic smile. The man kept talking. "Let me tell you how this goes. We talk for a while. You try to persuade me to leave. I stay. Finally you agree to have a drink with me. We drink. We talk. You laugh. We drink some more. After a while, you realize that I'm not so bad after all. We laugh some more, get a little bit cozier. Then it's time to leave. We leave. I walk you back, you invite me in for a coffee. You tell me you're not that kind of girl, but this time you'll make an exception. A few minutes later, those robes are on the floor, and we're having the time of our lives."

Sakura was shocked. She desperately tried to think of something to say. The man kept talking. "Or we could do things differently. We leave now. We go to yours, and we get the fun started early."

She was starting to blush. Her inner voice screamed at her to stay calm, to keep her self-possession, to say something, anything! Finally she stammered out: "Excuse me?"

The man grinned. "C'mon, you know what I mean. Let's cut the bullshit and get going."

"Look, I'm sorry, but I think you have the wrong person."

The man kept smiling. "I know things are different in Konoha, but surely you have one night stands?"

The shock barely lasted a second. She became fully alert, one hand holding a hidden kunai, the other forming the first hand seal. Her eyes narrowed, fully focused on the man in front. "Who are you? Who sent you?!"

The grin never slipped. "Relax, Haruno Sakura. I'm the one they sent you to meet."

Sakura was still tense. "What, you're…?"

The man nodded. "Yep. The name's Weasley. Ron Weasley. But you can call me… anytime."

* * *

A few hours later, Ron's prediction was on track. Sakura was laughing, almost spilling her third or fourth cocktail. Ron was chuckling too.

"Wow, you're pretty funny, Ron-san!"

"Relax with the formality. Just call me Ron!"

"Ok… Ron!"

She laughed again. Ron was surprised. It turned out that Sakura wasn't anywhere near as reserved as Shikamaru had described, especially after a few drinks. He checked the time. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two people approaching the table. Sakura hadn't noticed.

"You know, you're nothing like what Shikamaru said. Or Hinata. You're very… different in person."

A new voice cut int. "Yeah. We thought you should see the real Ron Weasley."

Ron grinned. "Hinata, baby, why don't you ever return my calls?!"

The Hyuuga shook her head in amusement. "What are you talking about? You never call!"

Shikamaru was struggling not to laugh. They new arrivals sat down. Sakura seemed distinctly embarrassed. Hinata looked at her friend's glass. "How many have you had?"

Sakura blushed. "Only one…"

Ron cut in. "Or four!"

They laughed. Shikamaru spoke, a dry humor lacing his words. "Well, I hope you're not too intoxicated for business."

Ron smirked at him. "You know me, old man. I'm _never_too intoxicated for business!" He winked at Sakura, who blushed again.

Hinata spoke. "Now, now, children, let's not behave like genin on a summer lark." Sakura tried to focus, but was distracted by Ron blowing her a kiss, causing her to laugh. Hinata threw a napkin at the red-head. "Yes, Mother. I'll be good."

Shaking his head, Shikamaru looked at the group. "Weasley-san. I'm being formal for a reason. The Hokage has decided to reward you for your continuing support and assistance in this war. Sakura, the Hokage's disciple and adjutant, was sent here specifically for that purpose." Sakura picked up on her cue. "The Village of Hidden Leaf would like to bestow upon you the rank of 'Honorary Leaf-nin' as a symbol of the enduring strength of our alliance. I had a fuller speech prepared, but I get the feeling you aren't one for formality." Ron grinned. "So, in short, we would like to present you with this."

She presented the package to Ron. He opened it. Inside was a steel band, attached to a cloth strip, with a stylized leaf engraved into it. Ron looked up. Hinata was speaking. "The Hitai-ite is a symbol of a shinobi. It is a sign that you are a protector of the Village and that the Village will protect you in hardship. We give you this to show that we consider you as an equal."

Ron was stunned. "Guys… I'm…"

Shikamaru smiled wryly. "What do you know, he's actually speechless."

Everyone laughed, Ron included. Sakura extended her hand. "Congratulations, Weasley-San. From your file, I can tell you earned it."

* * *

Shikamaru sipped his sake. They had left the bar hours before, and were now in the Konoha Embassy. Sakura had retired, due to her long trip in the morning, while Hinata had some paper-work to catch up on. The two men sat in Shikamaru's office. Since the girls had left, Ron was uncharacteristically quiet.

If he had been told, way back then, how the future would pan out, would he have been able to believe it? He remembered their first meeting. It had been during Gai's goodwill visit to Hogwarts, when Shikamaru was posted briefly to England to assess joint strategy. At the end of the meeting, Albus Dumbledore had invited him to dine at Hogwarts, and Shikamaru had grudgingly accepted, more from a desire to see his friends than out of any wish to sped time at a wizard school. After the meal, having sat at the high table and put up with the stares from the children, he was informed that should he wish to stay, quarters were arranged for him. He had been in two minds about accepting, worried that the Village might object, when Gai informed him that he had been allowed a few days leave to spend there, should he wish it. He had accepted, more because leave was such a rare commodity it seemed insane to waste it.

The quarters he was assigned were spacious and comfortable, in the Gryffindor Tower, though he did not understand the distinction then. Early in the morning, he had wandered down to the common room and sat in an armchair, staring at a wizard chess set. A noise had made him turn, and he came face to face with Ron Weasley. He had been sneaking in through the portrait. After begging Shikamaru not to tell anyone, he offered a game of chess to pass the time. Shikamaru was not unfamiliar with Western chess, and had been confident in taking the challenge.

The game lasted half a day. Luckily for the boy, he had no lessons, or he would have been in serious trouble. As it was, he resisted the exhortations of his friends to join them in school work or play, preferring to continue the match. After the seventh hour of play, they began to attract an audience. Ron's skill at chess had been legendary, and everyone was surprised to see a game last this long. By the ninth hour, the entire house was watching, and teachers were gathering for the show. Gai and his team entered to support their countryman. When the last move was made, and the checkmate sealed, the players were greeted by thunderous applause. Despite losing, Shikamaru was cheered by the Hogwarts students for giving their champion such a contest. That was the beginning of their friendship. They had spent more time together over the next few days. Occasionally they were joined by one or another of Ron's friends, but Shikamaru only dimly remembered them. When he had gone back to Konoha, they stayed in touch by letter.

It was hard to say when he realized that his western friend was a natural shinobi. Was it after Gai returned, and told him that Ron got a perfect score on his three month Taijutsu course. Or maybe from the beginning of the dark days and the assault on Hogwarts, when his friend had conducted his first combat operation, capturing seven Death Eaters single handedly and surviving a clash against a Sound Shinobi long enough to raise the alarm. Either way, it came as little surprise when he learned that Ron had been accepted onto the ASF training program, their first non-Auror candidate. His rise had been meteoric. The debacle in Diagon Alley, and his brilliance in regrouping the forces and salvaging the operation, saving hundreds of lives, saw him promoted. In conjunction with the new Commander, he redesigned the program entirely, aiming to have a force that could compete evenly with shinobi within two months. When Voldemort led his second attack on the Ministry, Ron's prompt action thwarted his plans, and it would have been a complete success if not for the death of Albus Dumbledore.

Since that day, Ron had changed. Shikamaru wondered if he still blamed himself for it, but the man's manner was different. He became the Captain, a legendary figure, famed for his lightning assaults on the enemy, often capturing several leading operatives and killing equally many. His record in joint operations was even more impressive. Before Ron, joint operations had a failure rate of over fifty percent. Afterwards, their failure rate was a mere seven percent. But that wasn't all. His personality had changed. He wasn't the awkward teenager anymore. Now he was confident, aggressive and calculating, but also very erratic and far more demanding of his staff. His tolerance for mistakes was non-existent, and he almost certainly preferred to kill over capture. He had become more shinobi than a shinobi.

Ron spoke, cutting through Shikamaru's reminiscences. "I guess this means it's all been prepared."

Shikamaru nodded. "Everything is taken care of. If you need it, you'll have a home in Konoha. We'll put you on an intensive course to give you the necessary skills, but afterwards, you'll be able to live as a shinobi."

Ron exhaled sharply. "Good. I'm hoping it won't come to that, but the way things are going, you never know."

"It's always good to be prepared. Though I'm surprised you'd need to go this far."

Ron smiled sadly. "The problem with the wizarding world is that there's too much politics. We may be in a war, but the game is still played. Maneuvering, nest building, cliques and corruption are endemic. Half my proposals are vetoed because of the power play. And then we have the career politicians, who'll do anything to make themselves look good but balk at real action. It's impossible to do anything. They're trying to cut into my operational independence, demanding more consultation, more joint this, more public that… it's all rubbish."

Shikamaru nodded sympathetically. In any shinobi nation, someone of Ron's talent would be leading the Strategic Command. Here, he was shackled by the stupidity of his superiors.

"Then there are the isolationists, who insist that the war is over now Voldemort has gone east. They're growing in number. And when you add on something like the Albardic case…"

Shikamaru poured his friend another cup. The Albardic case was fast turning into a nightmare. An official, one of the most outspoken pro-alliance members of the Ministry, had been murdered in his home by an unknown assassin who had bypassed the best in Ministry security and carved a snake on the man's back. While many believed that Voldemort was behind it, a small minority insisted that it was done by their allies, pointing to the difference between Voldemort's snake and the one on the dead body. They claimed it was a conspiracy, as Albardic was receiving money for keeping quiet over the number of shinobi in the UK, and used it as proof that the alliance was dangerous. Though the mainstream didn't agree to that extent, many influential commentators were openly asking whether the alliance made it easier for shinobi to operate in the country, and if so, whether or not it was more trouble than it was worth...

"The Albardic case will blow over. It would be very hard to prove that we were involved."

Ron snorted. "They don't need to. Just a suggestion is enough. Shinobi make people uncomfortable. I've explained that the reason things are quiet is because you guys are taking the loss back east, but they ignore me. They even call me a sympathizer and a traitor. Not to my face, but they whisper it."

He shook his head. "Look, enough gloomy talk. Let's enjoy the rest of this bottle."

Shikamaru smiled, and poured himself a cup. In some ways, Ron would never change.

* * *

**A/N - More of a background chapter here. Now you get to learn a little more about why Ron is the way he is now. And that the ladies should really stay away from the ginger love-god!**


	5. Conspiracy Theory

**Disclaimer: Unsurprisingly, I own nothing. Naruto and Harry Potter belong to their respective creators.**

* * *

___If all that was needed to learn the truth was merely the asking of many questions, then the entire world would be a wiser and happier place. Often, you don't know who or what to ask, and sometimes the wrong question can lead to an unpleasant end. The rivers and marshes of the world are filled with men and women who asked the wrong questions, like "Where is my husband?" and "Why did he change his will like that?"._

_A little knowledge might be a dangerous thing, but not nearly as dangerous as learning it._

Neville stopped reading. He never ceased to be amazed at the kind of books Muggles printed. He stood from the desk and exited the library. After a full day of research, he was certain he knew how to proceed.

You could find anything in a Muggle library, and what you couldn't find there was easily available on the internet. Strategies on guerilla tactics, terrorism, spying, manuals for urban warfare, details of investigative procedure… The Ministry would have had a fit to see such material available in a magical bookshop. The thought struck him, a revelation from the blue. _They don't want us to know… They control the supply of information!_ It fit. The Ministry exercised total control over what was published and what was restricted. It was a… _What is the term? Ah, yes… _A 'police state'. Freedom traded for security. Knowledge censored for the 'Common Good'. Any problems are solved by banning something, arresting someone. A perfect world, at least until something like Voldemort happened…

He walked out and checked the time. Three hours to sunset. Sighing, he looked for a bar in which to wait.

* * *

In every town in the world, there's a bar that only the wrong sort of people hang out in. In that bar, there will be a lot of people who know something, and are happy to tell you, as long as you put the money down. Some of those people will know something of significance, and these people are more difficult to speak to and more expensive to deal with. And a very small number will not only know a lot, but can easily send you to someone who knows a lot more. The trick is to find the right person.

Neville sat in the bar. It had begun. The first test was simple.

Survive.

* * *

An hour later, the bouncers threw the last body out into the rubbish tip behind the kitchen. Neville went up to the bar. His hand hurt a little, he had a cut lip and the beginning of a beautiful shiner, but he was otherwise fine. The barman served him instantly, and refused to take payment. After all, it's not every day a young man shatters "Psycho" Steve's face with a single blow.

He sat down at a different table, and gave a silent toast to Maito Gai, the crazy ambassador whose hand-to-hand combat course he had failed so long ago. It hadn't been by much. He had dropped out of the course with two weeks to go, after a severe concussion that kept him bed-ridden for ten days. Rock Lee, his over-enthusiastic partner, had been very apologetic. He had regretted his failure, especially considering what Ron and Harry had managed, but what he had gained was more than enough to deal with bar thugs.

At any other time, he would have lost himself in memories of Hogwarts, but he had been doing that too often lately. Besides, now the second stage began. Having seen that he's tough, the various patrons would want to know why he had come here. Was he auditioning for a gang job? Was he sending a message to a rival crew? Or was he looking for something?

The first man approached. Neville ignored him. The guy disappeared after a few minutes. He waited. Another man came up to him. Neville glanced at him, and then ignored him. The guy walked off. He waited some more. A third guy approached. He didn't look at Neville, but walked past the table ad went to the bar. Moments later, the barman arrived with a new drink. Neville took it, then toasted his benefactor. The man returned the gesture.

Finishing his drink, he saw the man walk into a back room. He followed. The other patrons studiously ignored him. That was a good sign. He was speaking to someone big now, and no one else wanted any part of it.

* * *

The back room was upholstered in silk and chintz. The air was thick and sweet, a cloying incense masking the smell of drugs. The man led him past couches inhabited by dull-eyed addicts dreaming their dreams. They arrived at an office. The man stopped. His eyes showed that Neville was on his own. Neville slipped him a Galleon and walked in.

"Take a seat. What are you drinking these days, Longbottom?"

Neville smiled wryly. "Whatever you're having."

A girl bearing a glass materialized at his side. Neville saw the needle marks across her arm. He took the drink without comment. The girl disappeared.

He leaned forward. "What I want is - "

"Excuse me, but I think that's rather irrelevant."

Neville shrugged. The two men sipped their drinks.

"You don't seem surprised to see me."

Neville considered this. "I guess not. Once, maybe. Not now. You never know what to expect now."

The man laughed. "True."

They were silent for a few moments. Then the man looked at him. "Lot of funny rumors around at the moment, Longbottom. Strange events and whatnot. Like you. Little bird told me you're Ministry. Special Forces. That right?"

Neville smirked. "What do you think?"

The man grinned back. "Thought so. Well, whatever your game is, I don't mind keeping it on the hush-hush. But we're clear, understand? Nothing more between us. Next time I see you, we're strangers."

Neville considered the proposition. It seemed fair. He nodded his agreement. The man raised his glass, and Neville joined him.

"Time for business. What brings you to a scumbag like me?"

The atmosphere in the room changed. Gone was the friendliness; instead a cold professionalism pervaded the air. "Need some information. What do you know about the Long House?"

The man whistled. "Playing with the big boys now, huh? Well, I won't lie to you. You're asking something well beyond the pale light of the silver moon shining bright on a midnight lake, old man. I don't know nothing about this Long House"

Neville read the signal perfectly. "Then I guess I won't trouble you any longer."

The man rose. "Give my regards to your Great-Uncle."

Neville didn't reply. He walked out of the office, straight past the hollow-eyed addicts and left the bar. He checked his watch. He had to hurry.

* * *

An hour later, shivering slightly, he waited. _There!_ A faint light, coming towards him. He smiled. The contact had arrived.

They stood at the graveside, silent. Neville waited. Sometimes, silence was the best ploy.

Finally, the man turned to him. "We ain't got long, so don't interrupt. What you're asking about involves a certain trip down memory lane. Let's go back. After the Tri-Wizard Tournament, when Barty Crouch Jr killed his father and began the chain of events that led to this current situation"

Neville nodded. "Imagine you're in the Ministry. You're ambitious, you're ruthless, and you've hitched yourself to Cornelius Fudge. The most respected wizard in the land, if not the world, has declared that Voldemort is back. The nation is divided: one side supports Dumbledore, one side opposes him, and the rest are undecided. What if you could make these problems disappear? The undecided would join you, and even the supporters would abandon their position once their leaders are gone. But arresting them and taking them to Azkaban won't work. The outrage would be too much. Even people with no opinion would be shocked. Ideally, you want them to simply fade from view. So you start a three-pronged campaign. Firstly, discredit Dumbledore, and by extension, Harry Potter. If he has no credibility, he can't sway the undecided. Secondly, cut in on his sphere of influence. Interfere at Hogwarts. Make sure he can't recruit, and cut him out of society. You know about these two."

Neville nodded again. The man paused for breath, then continued. "Lastly, you crack down on the support. Get rid of the core group, because as they fade away, the rest will get weaker. The question is how? At first, send them to Azkaban on spurious charges. But after a while, this gets difficult. They're mounting their own campaign. And the Wizengamot isn't wholly yours. Besides, the trial is too public. Too much information is leaking out. Then the Dementors are erratic. Too many problems with them. So you want to simplify the process. What if there was a way to make someone simply… disappear?"

The man looked around, checking the area. Neville waited. Eventually, he resumed his tale. "A special unit. Not Aurors, not Magical Law Enforcement. A group that report only to you. Small, efficient and utterly loyal. Specialists in kidnap and forgery. Some one voicing views you don't like? Mark them, have them taken and forge a reason for their disappearance. Then what? You can't kill them. Bodies have a habit of resurfacing. You need somewhere for them to stay hidden. A new Azkaban, but better, because you can't escape, not now, not ever. When they're there, you can… help some of them. Not the Imperius curse, too easy to detect. But a system of brainwashing, conditioning and torture can turn even the rebellious critic into a loyal, obedient citizen. Think of it as a re-education centre, where you learn to be what the Ministry wants you to be. Course, some people you can't do that to. Fine. They can simply stay as permanent guests. No one will be looking for them anyway."

Neville struggled to remain impassive. _It can't be… A conspiracy on _that_ level?!_ The man was still talking. "Now, what happens when you find out you're wrong? You don't want Voldemort in power, but Scrimgeour is just as bad, as far as you're concerned. So you worm your way into his group, and at some point, you give him the details. Not all of them. And certainly not that it exists. But you suggest the idea. A wonderful idea. A place where the loose ends can go. Sympathizers, trouble-makers. Undesirables. You get approval. What the Minister doesn't realize is that he's given you blanket approval to get rid of anyone you want. And that's what you do. Maybe now you start wondering how you'd look in that office. Maybe you start thinking that the medallion would be suited to your rather thick neck. Who knows. So you getting rid of people. The war is perfect. Millions of excuses for where people have gone. So easy to manage, it's now impossible to tell who's really missing and who isn't. A perfect crime…"

The man looked Neville in the eye. "That's the Long House. It's the place that the disappeared go to."

He turned and began walking. He looked back to wave at Neville. Neville returned the courtesy, then watched as the man once known as Blaise Zabini, the man whose life he had saved on that night so long ago, disappeared.

* * *

The floor was quiet. The Embassy was rarely busy. Sakura walked down the corridor and knocked once at the door to the office.

"Come in!"

Hinata sat at her desk, buried in a report. She gave Sakura a fond smile as she entered. "I thought you'd already left!"

Sakura smiled back. "I overslept."

Hinata chuckled. "She'll kill you, you know."

Sakura sighed. "Well, we did deserve a celebration."

She sat in front of her friend. "How's Shikamaru?"

Hinata lowered her voice. "In bed, groaning. I think Ron's a bad influence!"

Sakura laughed. "He's an interesting guy, isn't he?"

Hinata nodded her agreement. "Shame he's not single, or I'd certainly snap him up."

Sakura was shocked. "Hinata!" she said, scandalized. The dark-haired girl giggled naughtily. In some ways, Sakura was very uptight. "It would be purely for diplomatic reasons." Sakura laughed.

She had really changed. The posting abroad suited her perfectly. She had been born for this kind of work, the diplomacy, the negotiations, far more than for the bloody world of the village. Sakura wandered to the desk, and looked at the report. "What's that?"

Hinata frowned. "The Albardic case. Ron gave me the file to look at."

Sakura grimaced. "What have you got?"

Hinata sat back in her chair, thoughtful. "The details are odd. It wasn't an inside job, as the method is obviously shinobi. From the look of the wounds, I'd say it was a chokuto. But the security system there was excellent. Only a Super S-rank could have made it in undetected, and there are very few of those around. Then there's the mark."

Sakura looked puzzled. "What mark?"

Hinata hunted for a picture of the body. "This."

It was a stylized snake, carved into the victim. Sakura looked at it. It seemed familiar.

Hinata was speaking. "It's not Voldemort's, and Hidden Sound don't use it either. The Hidden Sound rebels don't have any S-rankers. It could be an Akatsuki member, but none of them would use a snake. It's… puzzling. An unknown Super S-rank using a snake symbol."

Sakura blinked. "It looks like Orochimaru's symbol."

Hinata shook her head. "I thought so, but he's dead. Voldemort controls his powers and his village. And if you're thinking it might be Kabuto, well, he's dead too. Orochimaru didn't have any other shinobi of that caliber."

Suddenly it hit her. The realization was so strong it felt like a physical blow. She almost felt nauseous. She doubled over, gasping for air. Hinata stood immediately, concerned for her friend. She guided her to a chair, and grabbed a glass of water. Sakura gulped it down.

"What's wrong Sakura? Are you sick?"

She shook her head. Hinata stared at her. Her friend was shocked, scared and… elated?

Sakura looked at the Hyuuga. "We need to send a message to Konoha right now. Priority one!"

Hinata didn't bother to question her friend. She dashed to the cabinet and pulled out a communication scroll marked for emergency use only.

Sakura was standing, pacing the room excitedly, eyes bright. "Tell them… Tell them you need to requisition some shinobi for an urgent mission, me included."

Hinata paused. "Sakura… I can't do that unless you tell me what this is about."

Sakura looked at her friend. "Please, Hinata."

Hinata shook her head. "Just tell me, Sakura. What's wrong?"

Sakura was smiling delightedly. "Can't you see it?"

Hinata was entirely confused by her friend's changed mood. "What? What is there to see?!"

Sakura laughed. "It's _him_! It's Sasuke!"

The penny dropped. Hinata was stunned. "Wait… of course! The old symbol - "

"Because that's the symbol he used when he left - "

"And he was always a genius - "

"So of course by now he'd be - "

"_Super S-Rank!_" They said together, delight painted on their faces.

Hinata turned back to the scroll, and began writing furiously. "Which shinobi do you want?"

Sakura's hands shook as she considered this. "Naruto, Kiba, Neji, Chouji… Shino, Ino, Tenten, Lee… Hell, ask her for the entire village!!"

Hinata finished the scroll, and waited for the reply. The minutes dragged. Sakura was pacing the room, fidgeting constantly. Hinata stared at the scroll, willing the words to appear.

Finally they came. Hinata read the reply. "Message received… Hokage informed. Regret to inform that cannot assign such a large team. Will send three shinobi including Sakura. Names to follow."

They waited. The rest of the message arrived. Hinata looked at it, then looked up at Sakura. The pink-haired girl waited expectantly. Hinata didn't speak.

"Who are they sending?"

Hinata remained silent. Sakura repeated the question. "Who, Hinata?!"

Hinata held up the scroll. Sakura stared at the words.

_Shinobi assigned to rescue mission: Rock Lee and Uzumaki Naruto. Will arrive at 19:00 GMT._

More words were following. A slightly childish hand, the characters a little crude.

_Sakura, Hinata! I'll see you soon! – Naruto_

* * *

Sometimes, being a genius meant letting others do the hard work.

Once he saw the news report, Kakashi knew that the Albardic case would involve Konoha. If his countrymen were smart, they'd eventually deduce that only one high-level shinobi in the world would still be using Orochimaru's sign. From then on, it was just a question of waiting.

He stared at the arrival pad, where the Portkey was set up. From the house, he had a beautiful view overlooking it. The security had been child's play to bypass. If he were still an instructor, he'd have given harsh words to whatever nitwit had set it up. Now, he was grateful for the lack of competence.

Hinata was waiting by the pad. She looked excited. Shikamaru stood, all bored arrogance hiding a similar delight. The third figure…

He smiled bitterly. He prayed that whatever gods listening wouldn't allow it, but he knew it was futile. When the two figures appeared on the arrival pad, he wasn't surprised. Prayer, in his experience, rarely went answered.

He watched as the figures ran to embrace their comrades, staring at them intently. He ignored Shikamaru, Hinata and Rock Lee, focusing instead on the last two.

Uzumaki Naruto and Haruno Sakura.

_Did you ever dream like this, Obito? Did your dreams ever come true? Are you watching my dreams?_

_Will it happen, Obito?_

He continued to stare at his former students, a strange feeling gripping his heart like a vice.

It was subtle, but he felt it.

No one else did, he was certain. But his senses had become sharper in the past few years. And he could definitely feel something now.

As his friends went inside, he stopped and looked up. He couldn't see anything, but he felt it. Someone was watching him. But not dangerously, not with killing intent. More like… an incredible sadness, mixed with affection...

"Naruto, you baka! Hurry up!"

He laughed, dispelling the feeling. It was a talent he had. "Coming, Sakura-chan!"

"Don't call me that, you baka!"

Naruto ran inside.

* * *

**A/N: ENTER... Naruto!!!! I know, you've all been longing to see him! Don't worry, we're at an almost complete cast. Just one more person to go, and hopefully he'll be making his bow tomorrow night. A poor little prisoner, alone and friendless... So very, very sad...**

**As for mr Zabini - I'm not super keen on doing his backstory, so let's just say that not every Slytherin is a dick, and that he's almost never called Zabini any more. He's now a crime boss, the Wizard world Godfather. Neville saved his life during one of the Hogwarts battles.**


	6. Prisoner's Dilemma

3

**Disclaimer: Unsurprisingly, I own nothing. Naruto and Harry Potter belong to their respective creators.**

* * *

He checked the corridor again.

No movement. His prediction was right. The thought gave him little comfort. He'd been right before, but it had never helped.

He darted down the corridor, halting at the door. He opened it a crack, just enough to peer through. Nothing. He went through.

He took the stairs three at a time, not bothering about the noise. Speed was more important than stealth. He reached the last step. He looked at the exit. It was solid steel and set with an alarm. He set to work.

It was impossible to tell how long it took, but eventually, he was done. Praying he was right, he carefully pushed the door. It moved. No alarms. _Perfect!_

He went through. He was nearly there now, just a short walk to the wall, then over. He looked out over the field. Lights swept the ground, searching for any movement. He began to run, weaving away from the searchlights as he made for the wall. _Come on!_ He reached the wall, and began to climb. The jagged rock cut into his hands, which soon became slick with blood. He ignored it. He reached the top, and jumped, rolling as he hit the ground below.

He had made it.

He got to his feet, and began to walk, his legs unsteady. Then he saw them.

There were ten of them, their teeth shining bright in the darkness. Then ten more, hulking shapes black against the night, except for their piercing red eyes.

_No, no, not again, not again, don't take me back there again!!!_

Hands seized him and dragged him inside. Feet and fists lashed at him, drawing blood. They arrived at a door, and hurled him inside. The cell was tiny, smaller than a broom cupboard. He felt like he couldn't breathe. The walls were closing in. He screamed….

* * *

He woke up, panting, struggling to keep calm. His cell-mate looked at him. "Same again?"

He nodded, heart still racing. Finally, he brought himself under control.

He'd had the nightmare regularly since he last came out from A-block. He thought of it as a useful warning. The price of failure, a price he couldn't pay again. The longest he'd been in there was two weeks. It had felt like two centuries.

He got up and went to the sink, washing his face, gulping down the water. It tasted horrible, but it was safe enough to drink.

"Anything interesting happen?"

His cell-mate shrugged. "Digby died while you were sleeping. They were waiting for him. They started before he'd even croaked."

He nodded. "Makes sense. They can't feed from the dead, but the dying are fine. I'm guessing they aren't very well fed."

His cell-mate spat. "Lucky you woke up now. Time to go to the yard."

* * *

"What's that?"

Shakes, named for his constant tremors, looked at the commotion. "New fish."

Terry the Moose looked at him. "How do you know?"

Shakes grinned. "Saw them bring him in the morning. Looks like he was born for this place."

The Moose spat contemptuously.

Silence reigned for a short while. They sat in their group. You didn't survive without a group. A man, or a woman, alone was too tempting a target. No matter how decent the person, once inside they became a savage. The gangs were the only vestige of social order left.

"Yo, Scarface! You coming to say hi to our new guest?"

The man called Scarface considered the request. "I'd rather watch him in action, Smiler."

Smiler shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Scarface watched the proceedings, at first with indifference, then with a growing interest. The new fish was being accosted by a small gang, demanding his obedience in return for protection. Seconds later a fight started.

Scarface got up. He had a reputation as a tough guy, and he wasn't keen on seeing a new man being beaten up. He couldn't have been more wrong.

The six men lay on the yard, bones broken, mostly unconscious. The new man hadn't even broken a sweat.

Scarface walked towards him. The new man stiffened, ready to take on another attacker. Scarface held his hands up. "Easy, easy. Now, listen to me. You beat those guys. No problem. The guards don't care. But now, you need to walk away, and come sit with me. Let people think that you're under my wing."

The new man spat. "I don't need protecting."

Scarface nodded in agreement. "I know. I know. But you need to learn the rules of this place. You're pretty good, I can see that. But you have to be with a crew. If you're not, you'll be fighting every man and woman in this place."

The new man smirked. "Bring it. I could kill all of you in less than an hour."

Scarface sighed. "There's a lot of people. And then there's them…" He pointed to a distant corner. The new man stared suspiciously. He didn't betray an ounce of fear, but his eyes narrowed. "What the hell are they?"

"Trolls, a couple of giants, goblins and… miscellaneous. This place isn't just for humans. Now, they're pretty peaceful. Mostly because they're terrified of the guards. But you piss them off, they'll lose that, and we'll be in trouble. I know you're good, but have you ever fought giants with your bare hands?"

The new man considered this. Finally, he signaled his agreement. The two men walked off together and sat on a bench. Nobody bothered them.

They were silent for a while, then Scarface extended his hand. "Let's start over. Nice to meet you. Most people round here call me Scarface."

The new man looked at the hand for a moment, then shook it. "Nice to meet you, Scarface. I'm… Snake."

Their conversation covered a few pleasantries, then Scarface turned serious. "Listen, normally, we don't ask about backgrounds. Everyone is here for a reason, and mostly, they'd rather forget why. But I have to ask… What you did, to those guys. I've only seen a few people who move like that. You're a shinobi, aren't you?"

Snake smirked. "Yes."

Scarface nodded. "By any chance, are you from Konoha?"

Snake was impassive. "Why do you ask?"

Scarface held his hands up. "No need to get mad. I just happen to know some shinobi from Konoha."

The tension was palpable, as if everything around them had faded away. "Listen. I'm not from Konoha."

Scarface looked at the man intently. "Yeah… But your taijutsu says otherwise. You move like Rock Lee."

Snake pursed his lips. "Once upon a time, I was in Konoha. Then I left. That's all you need to know."

Scarface nodded. He knew when to leave an issue alone.

* * *

Over the next few days, they had few chances to talk. Then Scarface spotted the ex-shinobi sitting alone during dinner. He joined him.

Snake nodded at him, but otherwise gave no greeting. They ate in silence for a while. Then Snake looked at him. "You know this place pretty well, right?"

Scarface nodded. "Better than anyone. I haven't been here the longest, but I've learned well."

"Why can't I use any of my jutsu?"

Scarface smiled ruefully. "It took you this long to ask? This place is covered in wards inhibiting magic. Even naturally magical creatures can't use magic in here. No surprises that you can't manipulate chakra."

Snake nodded. "I thought breaking out of here would be a piece of cake. Guess I was wrong."

Scarface laughed bitterly. "You may as well leave that behind. I've been trying since I got here. Breaking out is impossible."

Snake looked at him thoughtfully. "Why doesn't anyone else try?"

Scarface looked at the floor. "Everyone has, once. Then they were put in A-block. After that, they gave up. You see those people, with the hollow-eyed look and the mindless shuffle? They're the ones who went to A-block more than once. Once you've been there, you never want to go back."

Snake frowned. "I thought you said you've had many attempts…"

Scarface met his eyes. "I have. I've been in A-block thirteen times. Now you know why they call me a hard case round here."

They finished eating. Snake left. He seemed to be pondering something.

* * *

The man called Scarface was squatting down in the sun, watching two trolls beat each other half to death with clubs. The guards monitored the situation carefully, looking for any sign of a riot.

Snake squatted next to him. He didn't even bother with a greeting, but went straight to the point. "What about the guards? What are they?"

Scarface frowned. "You ask a lot of questions. They're a mixed bunch. Vampires and Golems mostly."

"Golems?"

Scarface laughed. "You don't know? Guess it's the benefit of a classical Wizard education. A Golem is a creature traditionally made of clay, but they can be made of anything: metal, stone, wood.... Very Dark magic. They're almost indestructible, they feel no pain and they can snap a steel girder with one hand. They also terrify the living daylights out of trolls and giants. That's why we have such a model of peaceful inter-species relations here."

Snake nodded. "Is there somewhere we can talk? Where no one will overhear us?"

Scarface looked at him suspiciously. "I hope you're not thinking what I think you're thinking."

Snake didn't reply. Scarface stood and led him away.

* * *

"So, what do you want to talk about?"

Snake seemed lost in thought. Finally, he replied. "I'm breaking out. And I want you to help me."

Scarface laughed. "Dream on. We'll never make it. And I'm not going back to A-block."

Snake shook his head. "You won't have to. We're not just breaking out. We're bringing the whole prison down."

Scarface stopped laughing. "You're actually serious. Are you insane?!"

Snake didn't answer. "You have to work with me. I need everything you know, all the details of your previous attempts, intel on every prisoner in here. If you can get me the information I need, I can get us out."

Scarface snorted derisively. "And how will you do that? No magic, no jutsu, we're outnumbered and outgunned! It's impossible!"

Snake smiled. "That's why we'll succeed."

Scarface was too shocked to speak. Snake continued. "You know, shinobi didn't always use chakra. We only acquired that much later. We're experts in subterfuge, strategy and evasion. With the right information, and proper planning, we'll get out, I swear it."

Scarface looked unconvinced. "Let's say I believe you. What next?"

Snake shook his head. "I'm not telling you anything until you agree. I don't need you. I could get the information myself, but I don't want to waste any time. If you agree, I'll tell you what's next."

Scarface frowned. "How do you know you can trust me?"

Snake grinned. "Because you want out more than I do, or you'd never have survived solitary confinement."

Scarface nodded. "I'm in."

They turned to leave. Snake halted. "You know, your name is ridiculous."

Scarface chuckled. "So is yours."

"Fair point. Seeing as we're now partners, I guess I can tell you. My name is Uchiha Sasuke."

Sasuke extended his hand. His new partner accepted it. "I'm Potter. Harry Potter."

"Well, then. You've got a long story to tell me, Harry Potter."

* * *

**A/N: Little shorter than usual. Not sure how well this one worked, but we'll see...**

**Re: Golems: I know they don't come up in the books. But it's a not a huge leap to imagine they'd exist in the Potterverse.**

**Nicknames: Everyone in prison gets a nickname. Harry's is obvious. Sasuke's... I'll confess: I was watching Escape from New York, and thought it would be cool...**


	7. The Sting

**Disclaimer: Unsurprisingly, I own nothing. Naruto and Harry Potter belong to their respective creators. Also, I'd like to acknowledge Jeff Vogel and Spiderweb Software for a few concepts.**

* * *

The Dueling Club was the oldest establishment of its kind. Officially founded in the 13th century, it was rumored to have existed since Merlin's day. It was a very select organisation: invitation only and no Muggle-borns allowed. Of course, the restrictions were in practice slightly looser – after five or so generations, one could be admitted, as long as one had ties to an old family.

Neville had mixed feelings about the institution. It had been very helpful to him, but at the same time it smacked of the kind of bigotry and elitism that led to Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Still, sometimes it was a very useful place for contacts.

He entered. The wizard at the door recognized him immediately. It was that kind of place. "Mr Longbottom! How very good to see you again! Will you be entering tonight?"

Neville shook his head. "No, Squeers. I'm just here to see Mr Lormos."

Squeers seemed disappointed. "Shame, sir. It hasn't been the same without you, really it hasn't. No one has quite the flair sir, if you know what I mean."

Neville nodded absently. He walked through the small door, past the club room where members sipped their drinks and chatted animatedly about the scorecard for the evening. He went into a corridor, then came to the office. The plaque was very discreet.

He knocked once. "Enter!"

Mr Lormos was a man of indeterminate age. He could have been fifty or ninety. He was desperately thin, held together with skin like parchment. He had a smile painted across his dusty face, but that could have been early onset rigor mortis. "Mr Longbottom! How good to see you again! How may I be of service?"

Neville shook the old man's hand with care, worried that undue force might shatter the skeletal appendage. "Oh, it's nothing important. Just wanted to ask some things about history, Mr Lormos."

"Ah, yes, history… the great teacher, eh, Mr Longbottom? You know, I've been the secretary of the Club for almost… well, many, many years. Saw all the greats, you know. I remember your father, you know. Very neat little feller, not so quick on the draw, but good on the counter. Had some good bouts, he did…"

Lormos continued in this vein. Neville didn't bother to interrupt. When the old man was in flow, it was best to let it wash over you. Eventually he'd come back. Besides, there were always interesting facts to pick up.

Lormos was still speaking. "… Alastor was a swifty, you know, but over cautious. Tended to fire blanks a lot, if you know what I mean. Now, Lucius, Lucius Malfoy, he was quite the opposite. Very poor on the draw, not a showman, but tenacious! Used to call him Slippery Lucy, you know. If you didn't get him right off the bat, he'd cause you no end of trouble. His year was quite the vintage, you know. Some jolly talented fellers there. But they weren't a patch on Black. Lovely little scrapper, was old Sirius Black. Very much a showman. Loved to draw second and get the hit in. The old non-verbal body bind was quite his specialty, you know. I say that as it's a move you've tried more than once, if memory serves. Yes, he was very good, that boy. Shame how he ended, eh? I'd say he was the best we had since… well, since good old Albus!"

Neville started. "Albus? Albus Dumbledore?!"

Lormos chuckled. "None other! He wasn't with us long, but he gave some brilliant moments. Very flamboyant. Never a straight line with Albus, always something of the spectacular. Colorful too. I remember the presentation. He wore a purple suit, an orange shirt and an orange sombrero! What a cad, eh?"

Neville waited. It would only be a few minutes more. He listened to Lormos. "… But those days are over. Don't get those types anymore. Now its all fire and lightning, no class. Why, half the club would use the Avada Kedavra if we allowed it. No one cares for the art of dueling anymore, the subtlety and the grace of it, the intellectual challenge, no, now it's all about the finality, the quick end. Not like the old days. Not at all."

Lormos bowed his head, looking almost in tears. Neville would have cared had he not seen it before. Finally, the old man looked up. "Oh dear, listen to me jabbering away, old fool that I am! What was it you wanted?"

Neville grinned. "If it's not too much trouble, Mr Lormos, I wanted to look at the membership lists and dueling records for the past ten years."

Lormos bowed slightly. "Of course, Mr Longbottom, of course. Wait in the reading room, and Rickton will be up with the records."

Neville returned the bow. "Would you mind if I kept him for a while?"

Lormos bowed again, slightly deeper. "For you, Mr Longbottom, of course not.

* * *

Rickton was heavy-set and broken-nosed. He brought the files up and slammed them on the desk, then turned to leave.

"Mr Lormos said you are to be at my disposal."

Rickton didn't make a sound. He turned back and waited quietly. Neville stared at him. The man was taciturn, but he was well-informed about all sorts of subjects, from the Ministry to the underworld.

"You're a pretty smart guy, Rickton. I know that. I know you are fully aware of everything that goes on in here."

Rickton didn't move a muscle. Neville continued. "I need to find some information, Rickton. I'm looking for some people."

Finally the man spoke. "Who?"

Neville smiled. "Firstly I want to know everyone who joined Magical Law Enforcement among the members with a positive ranking here. Of those, I want to know who is still there. Especially for Aurors."

Rickton sat down, and began leafing through the files. He drew a pen and began to make marks next to names. There were ten files on the table. It looked like it would take a while.

Neville looked at the list in front of him. Rickton was frowning. "You're sure this is all of them?"

Rickton nodded. Neville pursed his lips in frustration. The records tallied perfectly with the list of Ministry staff he'd obtained a few days ago. No discrepancies at all. Neville sighed. Rickton was still frowning. Finally, uncharacteristically, he volunteered a few words. "Who are you looking for, exactly?"

Neville stared at him suspiciously. He debated the reasons to distrust the man, but then thought of his legendary taciturnity. Pursing his lips, he told the story as it had been told to him. When he was done, Rickton seemed lost in thought. He looked up. "Wrong files. Let me get the right ones."

He was gone only minutes. He returned with a second set of files, and began his duty again. Neville was intrigued. "Which files are these?" Without pausing, Rickton answered tersely. "Members with a negative ranking."

Neville was surprised. A negative ranking at the club meant low skill, which hardly seemed a criterion for selection to a secret agency. "Why negative?"

Rickton continued to peruse to the files. "Negative ranking normally means bad reflexes. Sometimes it means low tolerance for the rules. Violations, penalties, forfeits – they all contribute to negative scores. You wouldn't know this sir, as you're very good with the rules."

It was the longest speech he'd ever made. Neville nodded in agreement.

"Let's begin."

* * *

Ron was tired. Since his meeting with the shinobi, he'd slept only ten hours. It sounded like a lot, but the meeting had been over a week ago. He was approaching his physical limits, but there was nothing he could do.

"And that's all you have?"

Ron stared balefully at the worn features of Alastor Moody. "It's a miracle we got this much. You can't expect the impossible, Mad-Eye."

Moody grunted. "I'm getting a lot of problems, Weasley. I've got Thicknesse on my case, demanding access to all our operational files. The Cabinet is still in uproar over the Albardic affair, and I'm under a lot of pressure to deliver. Either bring me something concrete, or…"

His field commander snarled. "Or what?"

Moody didn't answer. Instead, he merely pursed his lips and gave Ron a look. The boy-genius was stunned. "I hope you don't mean what I think you mean."

Moody nodded. Ron stood, and stalked to the door. Pausing, he turned back. "The man I admired would have died before suggesting such a thing."

He left, slamming the door behind him.

* * *

Rickton had done well. From two hundred files, he'd culled the possibilities to three. Neville looked calculatingly at the names and addresses. One of them was definitely out. It made no sense for Zabini to help him when he so easily could have refused the request. The second was unlikely. Cormac McLaggen was many things, but he didn't fit the profile for a top-secret Ministry employee. He was too loud, too opinionated, too… dumb. Besides, he was based in America now, running an import/export venture with a number of young professionals. That left one…

Neville drew a lighter from his pocket, and burned the list, scattering the ashes down a drain. The last name on the list was one he wasn't keen on meeting alone, and certainly not without magic. He'd need to get some back-up for this…

An hour later, he waited at the rendezvous, checking nervously for any sign of surveillance. Everything seemed clear. He looked back to the book, re-reading the same page again and again. It barely registered. Finally, he heard it. A low sound, inaudible to anyone not listening for it, a challenge that demanded a response. He withdrew the lighter, and made three quick flashes. The sound vanished.

The Konoha man had arrived.

"What's the deal?"

"Got a lead, and I'm gonna need some back-up. The guy's sharp, real sharp. I don't think I can take him alone."

The Konoha man nodded. "Let's roll."

The two of them walked out of the graveyard, Neville in the lead, Naruto behind.

Neither of them noticed the dog following them.

* * *

"You sure this is it?"

Neville didn't answer. They were in an abandoned warehouse, with no signs of civilized life. A couple of tramps had silently made their exit the moment the two operatives arrived, eager to avoid any trouble. "Let's get searching."

It took them a while to find him. Naruto spotted him, and checked with Neville for confirmation. Neville was uncertain. They got closer. There was definitely a resemblance. The features were similar, and once you looked past the filth, the hair had its distinctive coloring.

The man turned round. Nothing in his face gave any hint of recognition; instead, the swamp of an alcoholic stupor stared out at them.

"Wha' you wan? Ah gaht nuffin fer ya, awrite?"

Neville shook his head in pity. "Merlin's beard, Draco, what the hell happened to you?"

Glacially, something resembling intelligence slithered over the once-handsome features of Draco Malfoy. He stared at them vaguely, then, gagging and choking over the words, he spoke. "Ne-ville?"

Neville turned to his companion. "He's not fit to talk now. I'm gonna need a few things. You can probably find them at the market we passed. That ok?"

Naruto nodded. Neville withdrew some paper and a pen. Writing swiftly, he passed the sheet to the blond shinobi. Naruto left wordlessly.

Draco was still disorientated, and was shaking constantly. Neville saw a bottle nearby and passed it to him. He drank gratefully.

Naruto wasn't gone long. He returned bearing the items on the list. Some water, a few common herbs, one or two plants and a large pot. Neville set to work brewing the potion. It wasn't anything special, just something to clear a man's head for a few hours. The work brought back memories. Snape's soft-voiced contempt, Malfoy's constant bullying, Hermione always ready with the answers, Harry always bold enough to challenge their sadistic teacher. He brought the water to the boil, then began to add the ingredients. He tried to stop the thoughts that came to him, but to no avail. Always, they centered on one man. Severus Snape.

His feelings towards the man were mixed. Well, that was an understatement. He used to quake whenever the man's name was mentioned. Then he'd loathed him. Then… The only word was respect. You couldn't help it. All of them felt the same. And after that fateful day, respect turned to admiration. Neville saw again the man's last stand. Hopelessly outnumbered, his gambit in ruins, he had turned to the children and screamed at them to run, then charged the massed Death Eaters and shinobi alone, wand flashing…

_Don't think about it!_

Shaking his head, he added the last of the crushed leaves. Then he waited. Finally it was ready. "We're going to have to force it down him."

Naruto nodded. Holding Malfoy down, he gripped his nose, then held his mouth open. Neville poured the potion down the Slytherin's throat. Malfoy screamed. Liquid spilled everywhere. Naruto forced his jaw shut. Malfoy had no choice but to swallow.

It took a little while, but he started to look more alert. Ever cautious, Naruto fished out some rope and tied him to a pillar, then withdrew a kunai. "We've got some questions for you. Answer them, and you won't be harmed. We'll leave you alone forever."

Malfoy's old arrogance was beginning to return. "And if I don't?"

The kunai buried itself next to his throat, just piercing the skin. Malfoy shivered, He puked, vomit spilling over his filthy clothing. Naruto said nothing. He didn't need to. Neville took over. "Let's make this quick."

* * *

They left him there, unbound, in a drunken stupor. Malfoy wouldn't be talking to anyone else anytime soon. As they left, Naruto felt a slight itching between his shoulders. He could swear someone was watching them…

He shrugged it off, and looked at his companion. He didn't know much about Neville, but the young man seemed competent enough. Rock Lee held him in some esteem, though how much of that was due to guilt was hard to say. Still, the evening had been a useful one, though it wasn't over.

About a mile away from the warehouse, Neville finally decided to talk. "I don't understand. How did he end up like this?"

Malfoy's story had been almost heartbreaking. After his father went to Azkaban, he'd been made a Death Eater, only to be thrown out after the first failed attack on Hogwarts. As a punishment, his mother had been murdered in front of him. Alone, he'd gone to the only person he could think of: Dolores Umbridge. She had been kind at first, asking nothing in return, but eventually she had made clear her price. Malfoy wouldn't talk about what he'd done for her. It was too horrible even to think about. He'd had no choice but to comply. A fugitive, wanted by both sides, he couldn't do anything to offend Umbridge. Finally, she'd found a use for him. He'd been placed in charge of a small group of Snatchers, doing low-level stuff: mostly petty criminals and malcontents. Umbridge was grooming him for a higher purpose, that was clear, but everything went wrong. Botched missions, sloppiness, poor management of his team… the list was endless. Despite his desperation, nothing could go right for him. Nothing had, not since his mother had died. In the end, Umbridge decided enough was enough. She didn't put him away, though what Malfoy had had to do to avoid that remained a mystery, but had taken his wand and sent him into exile. No magic for the rest of his life, no contact with the wizarding world. Homeless, he copied the people around him and turned to the bottle. Then it was all a haze. Days, weeks, months, they were all the same to him. The bottle was his salvation. After a while, as the potion wore off, he'd gone into the same incoherence they'd found him in. By the end, he was unintelligible.

Naruto shrugged. "Some people are just born weak, Neville-san."

Neville closed his eyes. "Maybe you're right… I never liked him, you know. If I'd known then that this would happen to him, I'd have rejoiced with every fibre in my being. Now? I can't help but feel sorry for him. We were never friends, he made my life miserable, but…"

Naruto grinned. "You're a good man, Neville-san. It's right to feel sorry for him. Maybe one day, when this is over, you can do something for him. But not today. Not now. We still have someone we need to meet."

Neville nodded. The two men were silent for the rest of the way.

Later on, it was noted that they both should have noticed that the dog was no longer following them. This is nonsense. Firstly, only Naruto knew of his former teacher's use of the animal, and he had no reason to look out for it. Secondly, this judgment neglects the fact that the teacher was far better than the student. Of all the shinobi on assignment, only Shikamaru would have been able to deduce they were being tracked, and there was no way he could have accompanied Neville. Still, the note stands on the case file, and remains the only blemish on Naruto's evaluation of his time in the West.

* * *

"Only him. I don't speak with foreign scum."

Naruto bristled at the insult, and was more than prepared cut the man's throat. Neville pacified him. The man still stared contemptuously at the shinobi. "Had one of yours recently. Wasn't tough at all. Just a little girl. Foreign shithead."

Neville addressed his colleague. "We'll speak alone. Wait here for us."

The two walked away into the night. Naruto grimaced. Whispering, he made a few clones, then changed them into inconspicuous forms. The clones rustled forwards, attempting to get as close as possible to the speakers.

By the time they got close enough to hear, the conversation had progressed far. Neville was considering something he'd just been told, while the informant looked around nervously.

"Are you sure?"

The informant nodded furiously. "At least two hundred. A mix of vampires, golems, and… others."

"What others?"

The informant gulped. "_Things._ Fair Folk, Lichs, Nagas... Monsters." He spat. "Wyrn is a maniac. Even Umbridge is terrified of him."

Neville looked blank. "Who's Wyrn?"

The informant shivered. "He's… insane. He used to be an Unspeakable, but he was thrown out for… erratic behavior. He worked on a lot of things. Experiments on living beings, teleportation, ancient creatures, other worlds… Everything."

"Why is he with Umbridge?"

"He built the Long House, designed the program, brought the guards in… She owes him. Lets him run riot."

Neville nodded in understanding. "How do I get there?"

The informant goggled. "Don't even think about it. You'd be dead in seconds."

Neville looked him steadily in the eye. "Let me worry about that. Just tell me where it is."

The informant shrugged. "It's not in the country. As far as I understand, it could be anywhere. You need to use the teleporter to reach it. Give the pass word: Owa Tah Ful. You'll arrive about a mile from the tower. Then you'll die. There's a squad of guards waiting on the other end."

"Where's the teleporter?"

The informant was silent for a while. "Room 10, number 52, Quinby Street."

Neville nodded. He was about to leave when the informant grabbed his arm. "Don't do it. Tell someone, tell everyone, blow the whole thing open, but don't go there."

He was shaken of brusquely. "See you when it's over."

The clones vanished. Naruto felt their knowledge rush into him. Some of it was still incomprehensible. He could see Neville approaching, the informant some way behind. He ran forward. The informant drew his wand, alert to any danger. "One question. What did you mean when you said you had one of mine recently?"

The informant smirked. "Snatched the fucker. Bastard had just committed a murder on our soil."

Naruto nodded. Neville looked at him quizzically, but the blond shinobi gave nothing away. The pair began the long journey back to the Embassy. They had plans to make.

* * *

Once he was certain he was safe, he whispered softly, and the Henge dropped. He walked a while, then found the tree. His prisoner was still tied there, comatose from the after-effects. He untied the man and dressed him. The poor fool would remember nothing.

He left him there, squinting slightly. He didn't like using his new talents much, but sometimes it was necessary. The slight deterioration was troublesome, but he had enough eye-drops to fix it.

He permitted himself the smallest of grins. Everything was falling into place. He wondered whether Itachi had ever felt the same satisfaction over his manipulation of events. It seemed unlikely.

He had some stops to make on the way, some supplies to pick up. Food, water, everything necessary for the job. It might be a week or more before anything happened. He'd have to wait till morning to begin.

The sun was high in the sky by the time he arrived at his destination. Checking to see if he was unobserved, he opened the door. Nothing. Security was lax. Quickly, he created a seal over the door. He'd know if anyone entered the building. Wandering down a corridor, he found the room. He entered.

The teleporter was six feet tall and two feet wide. Black and red inside it, bathing the room in a dull light, like a dying fire. He unpacked his supplies, and settled himself in for the long wait.

_Soon, Obito. Soon, it will all be over. One way or the other._

_

* * *

_

**A/N: we're nearing the end of part one...**

**This chapter gave me a lot of trouble, and I'm still not quite happy. it's longer than I usually like, and the next one will be longer still. Ah well, so it goes.**

**The Long House has ended up as being heavily based on some of the dungeons from one of my favourite games, Exile II, specifically Akhronath, with an option on Garzahd's Fortress too. If you've never played the game, I'm sorry. You should have. It was awesome! Great story, simple gameplay, thoroughly absorbing stuff.**


	8. The Secret Life of Wyrn

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, not Naruto, not Harry Potter, nothing. I really wish I did, but I don't.**

* * *

The wizard woke up.

Dawn streamed in from the window, bathing the laboratory in its glow. The wizard stretched. He had, as usual, fallen asleep over his work. A slight noise made him turn.

"I brought you some breakfast, master"

The house-elf placed the tray delicately on a table, then enchanted it to float slowly towards her owner. The wizard grunted his acknowledgement. "Have you finished the cataloguing?"

"All except the Near and Middle-East scrolls."

"Well, get to work. No time for slackness, not when we're this close."

With a popping sound, the house-elf disappeared. The wizard was already buried in his files. He sighed in frustration. He was close, he knew it, but every step closer created a thousand more difficulties. Gritting his teeth, he walked out of the laboratory. The food cooled gently as he left.

As he walked, one of his guard commanders appeared by his side. "Why are you troubling me?"

The commander vanished. The wizard paid it no heed. He was already debating the wisdom of his current course. Need was slightly ahead of mistrust in the current stakes.

Walking up the stairs, he withdrew a small bronze key, covered in runes. An ignorant observer might have attempted to deduce some pattern in the way the man walked, perhaps the walk of someone avoiding traps. They would have been wrong. His shambling gait was another symptom of a man too caught up in a quest for abstracts to notice the physical.

He came to the door. It had no visible keyhole, but still the wizard presented his bronze key and turned it. The door came open. He quickly walked through, and it slammed shut, locking itself.

He moved to the symbol drawn on the floor. Withdrawing his wand, he muttered a few words. Inside the circle, a maelstrom of lightning swirled briefly then faded, leaving the smoking body of a man.

At least, that's what it appeared to be. On its back, cartilage and skin hung shattered, while its face was inhuman, the eyes heavily lidded, the pupils slit, the mouth over large and the nose angular in its perfection. Snarling, it rose to its feet.

"Why isn't it working?!"

The creature inside the circle growled once. The wizard's wand flashed up. A furious battle, as great as any feat of arms before the walls of Troy, raged in the minds of the two occupants of the room. The bowed head of the creature was the only testament to victory. Still, it wasn't quite docile.

"One day your concentration will slip. Then you'll see what happens to little men like you who play with forces to big for them to handle." Its voice was deep and hoarse, like the belching of a sulfur cavern. As it spoke, small sparks flickered briefly in its eyes, and a faint amount of smoke issued from its mouth.

"I summoned you by the key, and command you by the ritual. I imprisoned you by the sigil, as written in the Grimoires. You are bound to me, to serve my will. So answer the damn question. Why isn't it working?"

The demon smirked. "I don't know. Or maybe I don't want to say."

The wizard raged impotently at the creature inside the runes. It responded with a sudden assault on his mind. Luckily, he brought his defenses up just in time.

The demon was still smirking. "Run along, little man. Run along, and remember: no one holds out forever."

* * *

"His name is Wilbur Wendell Wyrn."

It was like school all over again. Neville played an idle game, substituting the old Transfiguration classroom for the council room, picturing a blackboard behind the girl, maybe a set of cushions that bewildered first years would soon be transforming into hedgehogs. He nearly laughed, but then it struck him that Hermione was probably just as strict as McGonnagal, if not more.

She was seemed pleased to be the focus of attention. In some ways she was a born teacher, someone who understood the concept to the highest level, but was capable of breaking it down for anyone to understand.

Her arrival had come as a surprise, which had turned to shock when she revealed she had been dismissed from her post by Ron, ostensibly as a scapegoat for the Albardic case. In reality, it was part of an elaborate ruse. Ron was convinced that once the existence of the Long House was made public it would cause a scandal that would lead to a loss of confidence in Scrimgeour's regime, if not an outright coup. With a little luck, so he thought, the Ministry would be rebuilt from the ground up, preferably with someone like Kingsley Shacklebolt in charge, and with all the old powerbrokers from Fudge's day put out to pasture. Shikamaru had speculated that Ron was eyeing a position as Minister for War, but Hermione was adamant that Ron preferred to retain field command. In any case, Hermione had been keeping herself busy tracking down every scrap of information about Wyrn, and was finally ready to present it to the team.

She continued. "Joined Hogwarts twenty-seven years ago, sorted into Ravenclaw. I have here Flitwick's note that he was the best student Ravenclaw had seen in decades. His exams were exceptional, among the top five students Hogwarts has ever had."

Scanning through her notes, she summarized the salient points of Wyrn's school days. "He was considered overly studious, even for a Ravenclaw. Very anti-social. He seems to have spent most of his time in the Library, where, incidentally, he also got into trouble on a regular basis. He was obsessed with books from the restricted section. Madam Pince notes some of the subjects he tried to research include histories of magic in the Middle-East and various books about magical runes and symbols."

She looked around to see if there were any questions. The shinobi were patiently waiting for her to get to the relevant part. Neville was fairly curious as to what the man had been reading, but realized that it wasn't the best time to engage Hermione in idle chat.

"His other obsession was Alchemy. After finishing Hogwarts, he embarked on a research trip that lasted around ten years. It is on record that he was the only student taken on by Nicholas Flamel since Albus Dumbledore, though what he studied is unknown. Certainly it wasn't typical. Wyrn seems to have been less interested in Alchemy for the sake of making gold; rather, his field was the biographies of famous alchemists. At some point he went to the Middle-East, and seems to have spent a considerable amount of time there. He was a fellow at the Alexandria Institute of Magical Research under Professor Ibrahim Al-Nahla. In his correspondence with me he notes that his area of study was ancient languages. He also seems to have spent some time in Damascus, then traveled through Iran to India, but the object of his research is unknown."

She paused to take a sip of water. Her audience remained impassive. While the man's life was interesting, they couldn't understand why Hermione was going into such detail. It would shortly become apparent.

"On his return to England, he took a post as an Unspeakable at the Department of Mysteries, mostly acting as a researcher. He was given a vast amount of leeway in terms of pursuing his private studies, often being excused from projects despite his reluctance to inform his superiors about his work. He did take part in some major breakthroughs, including the refinement of the Wolfsbane potion and a number of charms against Vampires, but his contribution was not huge. Some reports indicate a feeling that he was not living up to his potential. The truth turned out to be far worse."

Her audience perked up. Seeing this, she smiled slightly. "Around about the time Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban, Wyrn was dismissed from the Ministry over a breach of ethics with regard to his experiments. The incident began innocently enough. One of his assistants noticed that his private lab was open, and went in to see if he was in. What the assistant saw drove him completely insane. He spent the rest of his life in St Mungo's ward, and died two years later, tormented by visions of unspeakable horror. An investigation was launched immediately. Wyrn claimed that the assistant had triggered a spell by accident, but this turned out to be false. Under heavy amounts of protection, a team entered the lab a few weeks later, to discover appalling sights. Wyrn was researching magical creatures, dissecting them while still alive. He was also experimenting on Muggles. They found several corpses, all with their hearts missing. He had used them for another set of experiments: the summoning of demons."

Neville noticed the look of smug satisfaction on her face. She was pleased her words had had an impact on her audience. Most of them were shocked. Demons… Most wizards were only vaguely aware of their existence, as demonic summoning had been punishable by death since the days of Roger Bacon. All books on the subject had been destroyed, or so it was thought. Any man crazy enough to dabble with demons was truly someone to be feared. They were cruel, murderous and highly intelligent, not to mention incredibly powerful and almost impossible to control.

"Somehow Wyrn avoided Azkaban. I believe the Ministry was too worried about the scandal it would cause to try him publicly, and too scared about what a man like Wyrn would do if left in the company of Dementors for a long time. Instead he was placed under house arrest, stripped of his wand, and a containment field was set up around him to stop him from using magic."

She placed down the file she was reading from, and looked straight at her audience. "This is where the official file ends. As far as the Ministry is aware, Wyrn is still imprisoned and still unable to use magic. However, after a good deal of digging, and the knowledge of where to look, I have a pretty good idea of what happened next."

The shinobi nodded in unison. Neville almost laughed again. Their attention was entirely on the brown-haired girl in front of them, no room for anything else in their minds.

"After around a year or two of house arrest, Dolores Umbridge, with the intention of creaqting a new wizarding prison, approached Wyrn. She needed it to be somewhere no one could access, even by magic. Wyrn knew just the place. Among Wyrn's specialties was research into Apparition that resulted in his building a small working portal at the Ministry. This project was discontinued, as it was felt that wizards have enough ways of traveling, and because the portal itself led to nowhere. Wyrn described the destination as folded space, a midway point that exists parallel to this world. It was this space that became the site for Umbridge's prison. Wyrn was also able to provide her with guards. He had learned the secret of making golems, and of binding vampires and other magical creatures to his will. As far as I can gather, he agreed to work with her on the condition that he could use the prisoners for experiments and would have all the facilities he desired for his work. Umbridge agreed. He has a tower next to the prison complex, designed according to his specifications, with room for an enormous library and a laboratory at the top."

Her audience processed the information. Finally, Shikamaru spoke. "So what about the nitty-gritty? Have you found any information on the prison and the guards?"

Hermione nodded. "As the source mentioned, there is a guard complement of around two hundred. This is made up of golems who work on the inside and vampires who guard the perimeter. There is also a platoon of nagas based near the teleporter. They're a kind of snake-creature, though highly intelligent and very capable magic-users." Shikamaru, his question anticipated, nodded at her to continue. "There is also a platoon of Elves who patrol the complex and the surrounding area."

Naruto looked puzzled. "Elves? You mean like your house-elves? Or fairies?"

Hermione grinned for a moment, then her humor disappeared. "I wish. These aren't house-elves. They're true elves. Not much is known about them, as the last ones were exterminated in Britain over a thousand years ago. A lot of our knowledge is based on stories and myths, so I can't really give you any advice, but I can tell you that in the earliest stories, they are utterly inhuman."

Naruto nodded. This mission was getting more and more fun. Powerful enemies, mysterious monsters… even the Kyuubi was stirring. He decided to ask the fox about some of these creatures later, and see what it knew.

Hermione was still speaking. "Lastly there is the problem of demons. Wyrn probably has a few in his tower. If we were to kill him without destroying them, we would be releasing them into the world, and we have enough problems as it is."

Shikamaru nodded. "Thank you, Hermione. We will begin our plans now. I will let you know if require anything else."

Neville knew it was time for them to leave. They waited downstairs for a while, silent, considering the task they faced. Hermione had her eyes closed, acting for all the world as though she was drained from giving such a long presentation. Even Neville, who had known her for almost half her life, was fooled. Inside, she was delighted. She was finally back in the saddle.

It hadn't been easy for her to come to terms with the realities she faced. If she was completely honest, she still found it hard to accept how things had turned out. Had someone told her, at the end of her fifth year at Hogwarts, that her boyfriend would become a military genius leading the fight against the Dark Lord, she would have thought them crazy. She remembered Ron when he was younger, all brash recklessness and lack of forethought, the complete opposite to her more measured approach. When it had been the three of them, she was the one coming up with the plans, thinking things through, covering the angles, while he was more content to simply charge in and let luck win the day. Now? She could barely keep up. Her sixth year had been an enormous blow to her ego. She had still been successful academically, but Harry had outshone her in Potions thanks to that bloody textbook. That had been the beginning of it. Then the shinobi came. She shivered slightly as she recalled their arrival…

"_So who are they again?"_

_Hermione sighed. "Shinobi, Ron. Honestly, didn't you listen to Dumbledore's speech? Or were you too busy staring at Lavender?"_

_Ron blushed. Harry shook his head. The bickering never stopped with these two. Every five minutes something went off. "I wasn't staring. I glanced at her once, and you're making me out to be a perv! It's entirely ridiculous!"_

_The argument continued. As arguments went, it was calmer than usual, more out of habit than from any real venom. Harry had the distinct feeling of being the third wheel. He grinned to himself. The rate things were going, he had better odds of betting Voldemort in a duel than these two did of ever getting together._

"_Quiet down, you two. They're here."_

_He wasn't wrong. A cloud of leaves erupted, and four figures stood in front of them. Two were dressed alike, the other two wore more unique clothing. They all looked… serious._

_Harry and Ron stared at them. Hermione tugged them away. "We're going to be late for Potions at this rate. We can gawk at them later. Let's go."_

_Still watching the shinobi, the boys let themselves be dragged away. Dumbledore was greeting them, welcoming them to Hogwarts._

_As they walked off to class, she felt a sense of foreboding, but shrugged it off. It felt too much like something out of a Divination textbook._

Sometimes, she amused herself with a game she had thought up one evening. She did so now, continuing to pretend exhaustion to Neville, who watched on oblivious. It all really started when they joined the shinobi lessons. There had been hordes of them at the start: the entirety of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, with most of Hufflepuff and a good deal of Slytherin. After the first week, they were down to twenty. Most had quit voluntarily after the first lesson, as they dragged their tired bodies to the Great Hall for supper. By the end of the fourth week, only seven were left: Harry, Ron, herself, Neville, Dean Thomas, Ernie Macmillan and Blaise Zabini. He had walked, unwilling to put up with the stick he was getting from his fellow Slytherins. Dean failed the assessment shortly afterwards, and was forced to quit. By the eigth week, Ernie had collapsed in a session from exhaustion, and spent five days in the hospital recovering. Gai-sensei had been disappointed. Ernie had been his favourite, more out of his admiration for the Hufflepuff ethic than anything else. By then, there was already a gap between the four of them. Hermione was on a par with Neville, but Ron and Harry were further ahead, partly due to their excellent reflexes. She found herself working twice as hard just to keep up. Then Neville left after his match with Rock Lee. Unwilling to spend the rest of the course (described as making "everything you've been through to date look like a walk in the park") training with Temari, Hermione had walked. By this time, Shikamaru had come to Hogwarts on his brief vacation, and Ron's metamorphosis had truly begun. Even though he had been good so far, Harry was still better. After Shikamaru's visit, the order changed, culminating in the final day: the day of the exam.

The format was simple. Two fights, each two rounds long, two minutes per round. To pass, all you needed was a score of more than seventy five from both matches. Gai-sensei was doing the scoring. One fight would be against Rock Lee, the second would be against each other.

Even though there was nothing to be gained from finishing top, Harry and Ron had become pretty competitive. For Ron, it was a chance to prove himself against the Boy-Who-Lived, while for Harry, it was a way of impressing Ginny. She had nearly choked when he had told him that. "Ginny doesn't care if you beat Ron!" she had said, but to a deaf audience. Harry was adamant that if he won, he'd impress her enough to ask her out. Ron was even worse by then. He was constantly going over his strategy, adapting it, playing it through in his mind. By then, quite a buzz was going up around the school. Harry was the favourite, but a growing number of people who actually watched the lessons were supporting Ron.

The exam was held on the Quidditch pitch. Dumbledore had rigged up a platform with an arena, while Madam Pomfrey was on hand to provide medical care if it was needed. It wasn't compulsory to attend, but even so a reasonably large audience had gathered. Proceedings began with a demonstration performance from Gai and his team, showcasing shinobi fighting skills to an enthralled crowd. Then followed a brief lecture, delivered by Hyuuga Neji about the different types of shinobi skills, and explaining that the course was an intense primer in taijutsu, or hand-to-hand combat, which he called "the foundation of all shinobi skill". Then it was straight to the first match: Harry against Rock Lee. He hadn't done badly, getting some good combos in, but ultimately Lee wasn't pushed too far. Then came Ron's turn. Everyone expected much the same, with the real show to be the final. Everyone, including Hermione, was wrong. The first round was entirely Ron's. Lee did all the attacking, but never found his mark, while Ron patiently evaded and exploited the openings. In the second round, Lee took off his weights, showing his full speed. Despite this handicap, Ron still fought well, managing the some good counters and avoiding as many hits as he could. Afterwards, there was a short break as both competitors rested before their match. Hermione had gone to speak to Ron, but found him deep in conversation with Lee and Neji, so she went to speak to Harry. He seemed fine, but she could tell he was nervous. Then came the match everyone was looking forward too. Based on Ron's performance against Lee, more people considered him the favourite, but there was still a strong support for Harry. The two competitors had walked forwards, bowed to each other, then taken their positions, Harry in an orthodox boxing style, head down and chin tucked in, while Ron stood straight, right arm folded and right knee up. The bell had rung…

Afterwards, Gai had announced that both students had passed. He didn't read the scores. Madam Pomfrey tended to both fighters, immediately healing the cuts and bruises and giving potions for the more serious injuries. The two boys were grinning, hands clasped, delighted that they had finished. The audience was pleased, happy with the entertainment they had seen. If you asked almost anyone who had won, they would all tell you: it was a draw. Only three people would have said different, had you asked them, and they probably wouldn't have answered if you had.

Neville spoke, shattering her reverie. "What are you thinking about?"

She smiled. "I was thinking about Hogwarts. The exam for Gai-sensei's taijutsu course."

Neville shook his head ruefully. "I'm sorry I missed that."

Rock Lee came down to join them. "We're ready."

* * *

Kakashi was up the instant the ward sounded. Moving fast, he eliminated all traces of his camping and left the room, concealing himself at the far end of the corridor. He waited for the new arrivals. A second ward sounded, audible only to him. Chakra had been detected. Smiling to himself, he left the building by the fire escape and circled it, checking for any signs of Leaf shinobi. He noticed Lee by the door, acting as the rear-guard, waiting for the signal to join his team-mates. Kakashi let out the breath he had been unconsciously holding. Time to begin…

* * *

They stood facing the portal. The room seemed clear. Naruto was raring to go in, while Sakura counseled patience. She wanted time to study the object. Hermione concurred. Neville shook his head in mock frustration. "Typical. Show a woman an interesting gadget, and they always want to take it apart."

Naruto chuckled, earning him a smack on the head from Sakura. "Ow! That wasn't fair, Sakura!"

"Shut up, baka." There was no venom in her words. She sounded distracted. Naruto had a retort ready when the unthinkable happened.

The door exploded. Hands reached for weapons as everyone in the room prepared to meet this new threat. Once the two shinobi recognized the newcomer, their weapons fell from nerveless fingers.

Sakura gulped. She wished Shikamaru had been able to come. She had fought an Akatsuki member before, but that had been with the assistance of Chiyo-baa-sama, and even then she'd been inches away from death. And Sasori was nowhere near as dangerous as the newcomer.

Naruto broke the spell. "You?! But you died!!"

The newcomer didn't speak. Sakura realized why he was there, and rage flooded her. "You won't take him! You'll have to kill me first!!"

Inside, she thought that that was a particularly silly comment. That man had no compunctions about killing. Didn't she know that?

Finally he spoke. "You are mistaken. I have no intention of harming Naruto-kun."

Sakura was still suspicious. "Then why are you here?" Suddenly it struck her. "No! He's coming home with us!"

For a moment, all was silent. Her words hung in the air like icicles. Then, in a soft voice, he spoke. "Home? Home is where your family is. And for better or for worse, that's me. Besides… he wants to find me far more than he wants to return to the Village."

Naruto walked towards him, and faced him down. "I won't let you take him." His words were quiet, and somehow more forceful because of it.

"Regardless, we still have to get him out."

Naruto looked puzzled. "We?"

The newcomer nodded. "It is strange how things end up repeating themselves. I am not here to fight you, Naruto-kun. I'm here to help you."

Naruto and Sakura shared a look. They both reached the same conclusion. "Fine. You can help us get him out. After that…"

Hermione watched her comrades reach an agreement with the stranger. Desperately confused, she couldn't help the question. "Who on earth is this man?"

Sakura looked at her for a moment, then finally answered. "Hermione… This is Uchiha Itachi. He's a renegade mass-murderer from out village, and one of the most dangerous shinobi currently alive."

Itachi smiled slightly. "What the dear girl neglects to mention is I'm the brother of the man she wants to save."

Hermione sensed that the issue was a difficult one, and decided not to press it. Neville, silent all the while, finally spoke. "Guys. Let's get a move on."

Naruto nodded. "I'll take point."

He stepped through the portal, the others one step behind.

* * *

The journey was rough. It felt like having your brain pulled out by your nose, then being stretched to breaking point before snapping back into shape. He tumbled out of the other end on his knees. Immediately, his senses engaged. He looked up. A group of vampires stared at him quizzically, their confusion yet to become the realization that food had just arrived. On the left, a few figures shambled forward. Made of metal, clay, rock and wood, they all shared one trait: a pair of burning red eyes. A whisper of sound made him turn. A large snake-like figure emerged from the bushes, followed by several more. He was outnumbered well over twenty to one, and they all spontaneously realized he was an enemy.

"Aww CRAP!!!!"

* * *

**a/n: and here we are: a long piece of exposition, and the beginning of the end! hope you enjoy! R+R please, and remember: Kakashi is a sneaky mo-fo.**


	9. All the Minister's Men

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, not Naruto, not Harry Potter, nothing. I really wish I did, but I don't.**

* * *

Ginny was worried.

She had been waiting at the Burrow for two hours. Her childhood home should have been comforting, but the effect was the opposite. The place was haunted with memories of her family.

She hadn't been back for quite a while. Upon her arrival, she wandered around, lost in thought, seeing sights from a distant past. Percy, his nose buried in a book. Fred and George bullying Ron outrageously while Mum busied herself with the housework. Her foot hit a decoration, a relic from that last Christmas they had all spent together. Memories swamped her. She was eight years old again, sitting at the table with all the family. It had been a quiet Christmas, just Mum and Dad and her brothers, though there were plans to visit some of their relatives over the next few days. Charlie was in his last year, and had his heart set on chasing dragons, despite offers from Quidditch teams across the country. Fred, George and Percy were regaling Ron with tales of Hogwarts; more accurately, Fred and George were lying outrageously while Percy occasionally intervened to correct some of their more extravagant stories. His attention was more on Bill, who was telling Mum and Dad about his posting in Egypt and describing the tombs he'd seen. She had listened to his stories, enraptured by them, and thrilled with pride at her brother's daring accomplishments.

It had been the last Christmas that all of them were together, and she treasured the memory. As the baby of the family, she had been indulged shamelessly; as the only girl, she was treated like a princess. She had once compared her family life with Hermione's, on a cold and dull evening, and the older girl had been surprised by her revelations. For almost as long as she could remember, Bill had been the focus of the family. The older two looked up to him, the twins admired him and she and Ron had practically worshipped him. Charlie was in a similar boat. He and Bill had always gotten on very well, being slightly closer in age and more alike in temperament. They were both energetic, outdoors types, who studied hard when they had to but preferred adventure and excitement. Despite the age gap, they had always been close. Percy, being younger and different in temperament, was always trying to follow them. Unlike the twins, they always made time for him, helping him when he was in trouble and giving him advice. She felt jealous about that sometimes, jealous of the closeness that Percy had had with those two. Ron and the twins were very different. Fred and George had been trouble from the beginning, and without Charlie or Bill to keep them in line, tended to run roughshod over the others, including Percy, who never had the same authority as his older brothers. Ron was a little timid, prone to following his brothers in everything, and half-heartedly picking on his sister. She smiled when she remembered the sheer laziness of his pranks, done more out of respect for convention that any real intention.

"What are you smiling about?"

She was startled, though she gave no sign. "Just thinking."

"What about?"

She was tempted to respond huffily, but decided it wasn't worth the effort. Besides, even though they were alone, she couldn't really act like a child any more. "I was thinking about Christmas, before you went to Hogwarts. When we were all together."

There was silence. She knew if she turned, Ron would immediately hide any sign of emotion, either disguising it with flippancy or with the deadly grimness that seemed to occupy him most days. She didn't turn, and gave him a moment.

"It was a good time."

He moved to the armchair and fell on it gracelessly. Ginny sat on the sofa, a little more demure. "Remember when George took Dad's armchair and refused to leave it?"

Ron smiled. "I remember. Mum was furious. I don't think he sat properly for almost a week."

She smiled too. "It was fun then, wasn't it? No war, no worries, just spending the time together…"

Ron soured. "Yeah, living a step ahead of poverty, Mum and Dad constantly terrified that something would happen to destroy their finances… No thanks. We had good times, but it wasn't roses all the way."

She sighed. "You're a bitter man, Ron Weasley."

Ron didn't answer. She guessed that memories had overwhelmed him too, but not the good ones. The ones that had haunted her for almost six months. Mum, shocked as Bellatrix Lestrange's curse scythed through her chest. Dad, a knife sticking out of his neck as a Sound-nin scampered agilely away. George lying on the slab, looking almost peaceful, his body unmarked by the Avada Kedavra. Fred, charging into the night, never to return. The never knew what happened to him, or to Charlie. Just a brief message: _Regret to inform Charlie Weasley MIA_, a message that felt like a thrown knife.

"We're the last of them, you, me and Bill."

She felt the tears welling up, and forced them down. "And Percy."

Ron looked up, his face harsh and unyielding as granite. "No. Not him. Never him."

She nodded mutely. Of all the tragedies, that had been the hardest to bear. Percy had disowned them. They occasionally saw him, but he gave no glimpse of recognition. He was convinced that they were responsible for Mum and Dad, and to a certain degree, he was right, though Ron would never see it that way. Then again, Ron's view of that day was different. He wasn't the one who got captured after disobeying a direct order. He wasn't the one who forced them out. She bit her lip and forced herself to focus on the present.

Ron was looking at her. "Don't think about it now. We've got work to do. Is the house secure?"

She nodded, but remained mute.

"Good. I've received an update from Shikamaru. They're beginning the assault today. With luck, this will all be over soon. They'll bring as many prisoners as they can here, and we'll keep them for a day or two while we make some preparations."

Finally focused on business, she began to look at the practicalities. "How many?"

Ron shook his head. "Hard to say. We need at least five for this to stand up in the Wizengamot, plus Wyrn himself, but there may be more. Still, we have enough space to keep up to twenty here, so that shouldn't be a problem."

Ginny was still a little confused. "I don't understand why you're going to all this trouble. Isn't it enough to just release them and let them return to their homes?"

Ron stared at her as if she'd just sprouted horns. "For this to work, we need proof. Kingsley insists. I had a quiet word with Moody, and he won't bite without a witness. This has to go like we planned, or the whole operation has been a failure and I'll have wasted the past six months."

He was remarkably free with that 'we', she noticed. Her involvement in the planning had been minimal at best. She suddenly realized what she had just heard. "What do you mean, six months? We only learned about the Long House recently!"

Ron grinned ruefully. "Trust me to slip up to my own sister in my own home. Guess I'm getting old."

Ginny stared at him. Still grinning, he began his explanation. "I suppose it won't hurt to tell you now. Kingsley and I have been trying to find a way to bring down the Ministry for six months. The Long House is the weapon we'll use. We've made preparations. At least a third of the Wizengamot is with us, and we have three of the seven High Inquisitors in our pocket. With the right evidence we can swing a majority in the court and a majority on the Oversight Committee. That'll be enough for a vote of no confidence and a nomination for Kingsley as new Minister."

Ginny was shocked. "So all that about Harry was just…"

Ron nodded. "Don't get me wrong. I've wanted to find Harry since he first disappeared. But this is a war, and our enemies as much our side as Voldemort. I'm happy that we can get Harry back, but if we can get him back and have him serve a purpose, then we've done something far more valuable than a simple rescue."

Ginny shuddered. He was right, and for a moment she hated him for that. She couldn't think of anything to say. She let him continue.

"There's a strong chance we'll face some sort of backlash over this. When I leave here, the only people you can trust are the recovery team and Kingsley. I'm willing to bet that Thicknesse will arrest me as soon as the rescue is completed, so I'll make it easy for him by being in my office. My arrest will be temporary, and knowing Thicknesse he'll try and torture me into a confession that this whole thing is a fake designed to launch a coup against the Ministry."

Ginny interrupted. "You're going to let him torture you? Are you insane?!"

Ron smiled wryly. "Hardly. I'll let him have his fun. I can probably hold out for a while, but you have to move fast. Once Kingsley proposes the motion and the court sits in session, things will move fast. We'll need an escort for the prisoners. Summon all the operatives. Ernie will have command, so keep him on a tight leash, and try not to tell him anything. As long as they're ignorant, we look better in court. When I'm released, I'll rejoin you. Understood?"

Ginny nodded. Her heart was heavy with Ron's revelation. Even something as simple as the recovery of his best friend was over laden with ulterior motives. She hoped that Harry would change him again, at least to make him more human. It was probably too much to hope for.

Ron stood. "Oh, and be careful of Dawlish. I don't trust him, and neither should you. The less he has to do with this, the better."

He vanished. Ginny sighed, and began the arduous process of waiting.

* * *

The guard looked at the crowd, spat once, then moved away. _Animals_, he thought.

In the middle of a rough circle of prisoners around the square at the centre of the exercise yard, the fight was in full swing. Men and women bayed for blood, caught up in the savage emotions of the affair. Then a metallic crash signaled the end of the round. The fighters moved to their corners while the bookies began collecting more wagers.

Harry, refereeing in the middle, caught Sasuke's eye. The dark-haired former Leaf-nin nodded slightly, then continued to move through the crowd, ostensibly picking up more bets. He glanced at the coaches. They knew the drill, and were preparing the fighters thoroughly.

They were two rounds in to a fifteen round match, with two more matches to follow. By custom, the guards were content to let the matches run as long as necessary, often postponing the return to the cells as long as order was kept. The prisoners all knew this, and made sure to keep under control. In some ways, the Long House was the most trouble-free prison in the world.

Harry noted the approach of two new groups, small in number but huge in size. He didn't show the exultation on his face. The prisoners made way, unwilling to cause offence. Sasuke wandered over to them, visiting first the handful of giants, then the larger group of trolls. The guards paid little heed. They had seen it so many times it was now commonplace.

The metallic crash began again, signaling the start of the new round. Harry re-checked the cloth binding and leather cushioning over the combatant's fists, and signaled the round to begin. The time-keeper, an elderly man, began his beat.

The two fighters were well matched. Harry didn't know their story, but gathered that the one in blue had been an Auror and the red was a Squib. They were enthusiastic, though not skillful, and both had a lot of heart.

The original plan had been Sasuke's, though Harry had fleshed out the details. They needed a way to gather a lot of prisoners together without it being suspicious, and Harry had remembered one summer evening when the Durseleys had taken him, somewhat reluctantly, to watch Dudley compete in the National Amateur Boxing Championship. Intrigued by the event, Harry had made careful note of the rules and regulations, and afterwards had asked Dudley to teach him a little. Strangely, his cousin had not taken it as a flat out invitation to bully him, but had been enthusiastic about sharing one of his passions. The teaching had served him well. The only thing that really got the attention of prisoners was a fight, and doing it in an organized manner ensured the guards would not see it as a riot. They had held contests regularly, making it a staple part of prison life. Sasuke took the position of bookmaker. He had told Harry that the bookie had to wander the crowd, and in less salubrious establishment was often the contact man for mobsters unwilling to speak directly. In short, the perfect position to pass details of the escape plan.

The crowd was cheering wildly now. Blue was pushing red back with a series of precise combos, while red parried and retreated, waiting for the counter. Then it came. A left hook was blocked by the right hand as red swayed and countered with an uppercut. Blue was down. Immediately Harry stepped in and began the count. Blue stayed down till the eight, then jumped back on to his feet, to the audible groans of those who staked on red. Sasuke nodded to the coach then. Harry grimaced. He didn't like rigging fights, but sometimes it was necessary. Besides, it wasn't as though anyone was harmed by it.

Sasuke was talking to the giants now, examining their fighter. Bringing them in had been hard, but once they understood the purpose of it all, they were happy to get involved. The prize match today was between a troll and a giant, bare-knuckle, scheduled for ten rounds. Harry thought it would be over before that, one way or another. After all, that was the plan.

The round ended, and Harry surreptitiously checked the wall. It was as they anticipated. The golems were off, and custody of the prisoners was given to a relief unit, a small number of vampires. He didn't have to check his pocket to know the stake was still there, though he saw a number of people in the crowd doing exactly that. He waited urgently for this fight to end. Soon it would begin…

* * *

Ron Weasley sat in his office, eyes closed, utterly serene in anticipation of what was going to happen. He heard the footsteps outside, and listened with amusement to the shouting. Moody was insistent that this was wrong, and demanding an explanation; Thicknesse ignored him, merely saying that he had orders. They opened the door with a crash.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley. By order of the Ministry, you are hereby under arrest. You are commanded to surrender your wand and be placed in the custody of the Magical Law Enforcement pending trial."

Ron opened his eyed. "Thicknesse. How good to see you. What is the charge?"

The bluff man ignored his target's jocularity. "Treason."

Ron nodded. "Very well. Relax, Dawlish. I'll come quietly. I don't want to hurt a fellow operative."

The grey-haired man was shocked as Ron stood, presenting his hands for binding. His wand was on his desk. Thicknesse retrieved it.

They marched him out over Moody's protests, Ron smiling a curious half-smile all the while. He looked at his captor. "Enjoy it, Thicknesse. It won't last long."

* * *

For a moment, step back, and consider the question of time…

Time is relative. To what, one may ask? The answer is simple. It's relative, mostly, to whoever is observing it.

Everyone knows the example of a red-hot coin on the palm of a hand lasting an eternity, or the slow-motion feel of a momentous event, or the blistering speed of an hour with a pretty girl or boy. Time can be compressed and extended, depending on one's experience of a moment.

And this is how Naruto felt. His word's still hanging in the air, he summoned his chakra and flashed the seals. Time slowed for him. The air turned to water, his enemies slow and ungainly. He saw the arrows inch towards him, and smoothly rolled to his right. Around him, seven clones materialized and leapt to the attack. A vampire swung it's saber in a slow arc, sliding through the air with a deceptive lack of hurry. He swung his arm up, catching the creature's wrist, and then he struck.

Time sped up.

The elbow shattered. The creature screamed. Naruto didn't hesitate. Chakra swirled in his hand. The Rasengan tore the thing to shreds. It faded to dust. All around, the battle was joined. From being outnumbered and outgunned, the clones evened the fight, pushing back the enemies, cutting them off from each other. He somersaulted away from a lunging golem. A kunai slashed in has hand as he landed, plunging into a vampire's chest, hitting the heart perfectly. The vampire stared at the wooden tip, the exploded. Naruto was already moving.

The others had made it through. They split, each tackling a different group. Shinobi assaulted the golems, wizards took on the remaining vampires. Naruto veered left and came face to face with a horror.

It was a snake. The human-like torso attached to it couldn't distract one from the truth. It a snake's features and scales running all over its body. And it was pissed.

Naruto moved just in time. A fireball hurtled passed him, reducing a tree to splinters. _I need some help here!_ The Kyuubi, as ever, met his demand with an irritating lack of urgency. _**Are you scared little boy?**_ Naruto snarled. His clones had attempted to tackle on the snake things. It cut them down mercilessly. _**They're Nagas, boy. Snake Demons. Skilled in magic and tough to hunt. And they taste bad. The scales catch on your teeth.**_ Naruto rolled to the right. A mini tornado he'd managed to whip up was blasted away by another creature. _So?_ The Kyuubi chuckled. _**Aim for the back of the neck. Use Air and Fire to distract them, then slam some metal into the base of their skull. Don't extract the blade. They have a tendency to regenerate.**_ Naruto swore. _That's it?!_ The Kyuubi's voice became dangerously seductive. _**If it's too much, just let me take care of it…**_ Naruto shivered. He felt the Kyuubi stretching itself, letting its chakra slip through. He shook his head. _**Fine then. Don't get killed.**_

Forewarned is forearmed. He released all his clones, then immediately created a new batch. There were seven Nagas in total. _Three for each._ Leading a pair, he charged one head on. The three of him ducked and rolled, avoiding the Nagas attacks. "Fuuton: Twisting Scythes!" The wind howled as the air sliced its way towards the Naga, who gamely dodged the attack. Too late! "Katon: Wind Ignite!" The scythes became a firestorm. The Naga couldn't avoid being hit. Flames lashed at him, slicing into him like a whip. It screamed, but the damage wasn't enough. As soon as a cut was made, the creature began to regenerate. Then it felt it. It howled in frustration as it realized the attack was a bluff, then the howling abruptly ceased as it collapsed to the ground, a kunai embedded in the back of its neck.

All around it, the other Nagas were in a similar condition. Two, slightly smarter than their fellows, were valiantly attempting to fight on, but vastly outnumbered now, their position looked hopeless. When the last of them collapsed, Naruto released the clones. He was mildly tired, but it would pass. In any case, they all had some soldier pills to hand.

He looked at the rest of the battle. The last vampire was down, ably skewered by Hermione. Sakura and Itachi were dealing with the golems, Sakur simply bludgeoning them into oblivion while Itachi used a more subtle method. He poured heat into them with a Katon release, then doused them in water. The combination of extreme heat and rapid cooling was enough to make them explode.

One last golem remained. Sakura charged towards it, slamming it into the air. Itachi leapt above it and neatly sliced of its head. He removed a scrap of parchment from it and then burnt it. The machine was in pieces before it hit the ground. Quickly, the gathered up the _chems_ from the other destroyed golems, destroying them all.

They took a brief rest, then powered on. Naruto left a clone by the teleporter to stand guard. Time was pressing.

* * *

Midway through the third round, the riot started.

It was timed to perfection. A giant in the audience hit a troll, who careened into a human. In an instant, the courtyard had gone insane. The guards watching sighed, then came down, leaving only a pair on the wall. This would be the last of the boxing matches.

The prisoners calmed down as soon as the guards arrived, but stood hostile in a circle around them. The guards weren't worried. They knew the prisoners would back down.

Then Sasuke withdrew a length of wood and slammed it into one of them. It speared the chest, then the guard collapsed. The world went mad.

Harry and Sasuke sprinted to the wall. Sasuke threw his wizard comrade to the top, then leapt up after him. They charged the shocked guards there, killing them instantly. Then they surveyed the courtyard.

Not a single guard survived.

They moved to the control tower, and opened all the locks in the prison complex. Then they barricaded to guard tower, leaving the rest of the guards trapped inside. It wouldn't hold for long, but hopefully they could arm themselves and shut off the containment field before then.

Vaulting down, they led the prisoners inside.

The escape had begun.

* * *

**A/N Sorry for the long gap. have been busy sorting stuff out for next year. Hope you enjoy! I'll probably be done in about a chapter or two, and aim to finish before the end of the month. At some point later, I'll write the next two stories, depending on how complicated Kishimoto-sensei gets with the story and how bored i get of trying to mirror it... ;p**


	10. Endgame, Pt 1: The Pledge

**Usual disclaimer: I wish I owned Harry Potter and Naruto, but I don't. Which is why I live in a bathroom.**

* * *

Harry paused to take stock of the situation. They'd split their group: half of the escapees were searching for the prisoners still inside or held in 'A' Block, while the rest were looked for weapons and supplies. Sasuke and a handful of others were with Harry, all looking at the door that blocked their path.

"You're sure this is it?" Harry asked, still focused on the door. It had no signs, just a simple metal door that looked nigh on impossible to move.

"Look at the cables. All the lines in this building lead here."

Harry nodded. He deduced this a while ago. The Long House blocked all magic, and apparently chakra too; however, it was warm, there was light, and there were kitchens for making hot food. If magic wasn't the power source, it had to be something else.

Ironically, it was his time spent confined in the cupboard that gave him the key to his current escape. The cupboard under the stairs where he had spent the majority of his childhood was also the location of the meters for the gas, water and electricity. He remembered having to go to the cellar whenever the meter-man came. When he noticed the pipes, and then took a close look at the ceiling, he realised that the Long House used Muggle technology to supply its somewhat dubious comforts.

Explaining this to Sasuke had taken a few minutes; apparently in Konoha shinobi were forbidden such comforts. Still, the young ninja had understood, and had listened attentively as Harry explained the little he knew of gas piping and electrical wiring.

They had followed the wires and the pipes to the door, Sasuke pausing at the kitchens to grab a few items without explanation; however, they had now reached a dead end. Even Sasuke couldn't move the door, and there seemed to be no options, apart from asking the giants to have a go. Harry was reluctant: giants were extremely difficult to talk to, and it would take too long to make them start destroying something and even longer to make them stop.

Sasuke squatted on the floor, his hands busy with a small stone while a heavy sack lay beside him. Suddenly he stood. "Everyone move back down the corridor and take cover. Not you, Harry. You stay."

The others complied, though they all seemed confused. The first euphoria of escape was starting to wear off, and the prisoners were beginning to worry about the prospect of failure. They had all seen what happened to people in 'A' Block.

Harry looked at Sasuke, confused. Sasuke was seemed to be lost in thought. "Help me out. Which ones are for gas again?"

Harry pointed to them. Sasuke nodded and picked up a length of string. He opened a can he had taken from the kitchen and dropped the string inside, then fished it out, leaving one end dangling clear of the can on the floor. It was wet and heavy, and Harry realised that the can contained oil. He thought he understood the plan. "It won't work. The oil won't be enough to destroy the door." Sasuke ignored him. He took a serrated knife stolen from the kitchen and placed the string end across it. Then he picked up a small rock and began hitting the knife at an angle as hard as he could. Finally a spark hit the string and it ignited. Sasuke turned back to the pipes. Working quickly, he ripped them off the walls, filling the passage way with the smell of gas. He picked up the sack and sprinted down the corridor. Harry followed him. Sasuke pushed him around the corner and hurled the sack as hard as he could at the door, diving for the corner as he did so.

The explosion was enormous. A huge fireball whooshed out from the corridor; the sound deafened them. After a few minutes, bells still ringing in his ears, Harry stood and looked at the corridor. It was charred black. The door was no longer there. Squinting through the smoke, he saw it inside the chamber it had previously barred, twisted and broken.

Sasuke was on his feet, though a little unsteady. Harry gaped at him. "How?"

Sasuke dusted himself off. "You said gas is highly flammable, and there are often accidents when a leaking line hits a naked flame. All we had to do was direct the explosion."

Harry was still confused. "And the sack? What was in that?"

"Flour."

Sasuke was already walking down the corridor. Harry and the others, in varying degrees of shell-shock, followed.

* * *

They had been running for almost a mile before they saw it.

No other patrols troubled them. Naruto wondered if perhaps it wasn't a little too easy, then stopped suddenly, staring at the two structures in front of them.

They were just over a hundred metres apart, but they couldn't have been more different. On the left, a high wall and a squat structure, surrounded by ditches, pits and wire. On the right, a tall and elegant tower, almost a spire from a fairy tale castle, entirely smooth with no visible door.

One of them was the prison, the other was Wyrn's tower. It was pretty obvious which was which.

When the group caught up, Naruto turned to them. "What now?"

Sakura, mindful of Shikamaru's briefing, looked at Neville and Hermione a moment then made a decision. "Neville and Naruto take the prison. Hermione and I will take the tower."

"No."

Everyone turned to stare at Uchiha Itachi. Hermione was about to ask him who he was to disagree, but thought better once she saw the fear in Sakura's eyes. "We need three for the prison: Sakura for her strength, Naruto for his clones and Neville, to gain the trust of the prisoners. Hermione should go to the tower. As the most skilful wizard and least skilful fighter, she will be of more use there." As Sakura prepared her objections, Itachi cut her off. "You will not object. Look at the walls. No guards. Clearly there is trouble inside."

Naruto stared hard at the walls, and had to admit that the traitor was right. There were no guards there. If the prisoners were attempting a mass breakout, it would make sense for the guards to be more focused on the inside. He thanked the stars for such a coincidence.

Itachi was still speaking. "I shall go to the tower. I am more skilled than any of you could hope to be, so I will go to the more difficult location. The three of you should be enough to handle the guards, especially if we are going to be joined by the prisoners."

No one disagreed. He had that kind of voice: quiet, but impossible to disobey.

The group split, much to Hermione's discomfort. _Alone with a man who terrifies the other shinobi… _He stared at her, measuring her like a carpenter judging a piece of wood. She shivered.

"Let's go."

* * *

"What the hell is _that_?!"

They had made quick progress once inside. They cut the power to the main gates, sending a runner back to the rest of the prisoners to tell them to move there. They then shut off the controls for 'A' Block, releasing the prisoners, then secured the guard towers by manually locking them down. With luck, it would take the things trapped inside a few hours to get out. As they worked, Harry found his admiration for Wyrn's genius growing. The man had a thorough understanding of Muggle technology, using it for all sorts of purposes. A large screen displaying the prison, the tower and the surrounding area showed red lights, one for each of the guards. Touching the light would reveal what species, number and duty the guard was assigned to. So far, they had managed to trap half the contingent in the guard posts. The rest were scattered, though a large group was gathering outside the main gate, clearly intent on recapturing the prisoners the second they tried to break out. That was a problem for later: right now, they needed to deal with the containment field.

It had been a wizard who noticed it. Another door, unmarked and unlocked, which led into a huge room, glowing with a strange light. It had taken Harry a while to work out what it was. The room was filled with glass boxes, each with a wooden rod on top, containing an insect the size of a large dog. The boxes glowed green, and a beam of light connected the rods to an enormous silver panel studded with holes. On closer observation, each beam connected to an individual hole. The small group stared at it, utterly confused.

Something about the insects tickled a memory, and Harry concentrated furiously to bring it back. _Page one hundred and thirty two… Homework is one hundred and thirty two…_ It wasn't McGonnagal or Snape. He had been surprised by it… Someone who didn't set homework….

Suddenly it came to him. It wasn't someone, but something. The homework was from a class that seldom had homework, because their teacher was keener on practical work than written, much to Hermione's dismay and Ron's delight. But Hagrid wasn't the only teacher they had for Care of Magical Creatures, and Professor Grubbly-Plank had been the one to give them the assignment. A series of questions, but the page opposite was the one that the insects had made him remember.

"Nol Bugs."

No one was enlightened, but Harry didn't care. "They're Nol Bugs. A rare species found only in parts of South America. Their chief characteristic is a field that they emit that somehow stops magical energy."

One of the wizards gasped. "Of course! I remember! The field extends for up to ten meters, and if caught inside, a wizard or magic-using creature is defenceless."

Harry grinned at the man. "But I still don't understand what's happening here."

A witch, her face and clothes filthy moved forward. "Those rods… They're of different lengths… Wands!"

Now everyone was involved, shouting their ideas as others tried to work at a solution. A few minutes of frenzied debate followed; Sasuke stood to one side, bemused by the process.

Finally, a solution was found. Harry stepped forward and addressed his shinobi comrade. "As far as we can work out, this is the reason we can't use magic or chakra. Those insects emit a natural field that nullifies magical energy. Spells fired against them don't work, no matter how powerful. A creature that uses magic to conceal itself will become visible if in the field's radius."

The witch took over. "Essentially, this is an array that amplifies the field the creatures create. They're trapped in the boxes and linked to a wand – the wand of each wizard or witch held here. The wand acts as a conduit, transmitting the field through the panel to the person, so it's as though the wizard or witch was surrounded by a personal anti-magic field."

Sasuke frowned. "But that still wouldn't explain why I can't use chakra. There's nothing that could act as a conduit."

Another wizard shook his head. "With enough captured wizards, the combined number of fields would occupy the entire building. The field works for ten metres in all directions, and you'll always be within that distance of someone trapped, no matter where you are in the building."

Harry resumed the explanation. "The other creatures held here don't use magic. For them, the guards are enough of a threat to keep them in line."

Sasuke nodded in understanding. "How do we dismantle it?"

Harry smiled. "We kill the bugs."

* * *

Getting inside was easy, though as Sakura commented "It's not designed to keep people out." Naruto had chuckled about that. Ever the brave one, he vaulted down into the courtyard, still laughing. The second he landed…

He began to scream.

Sakura and Neville jumped down after him. They reached him moments later, but were powerless to help him.

"What the hell is happening?!"

Sakura looked desperate. "I don't know!"

Abruptly, as quickly as it had begun, the screaming stopped. Naruto stood, wincing slightly. He walked off without a word.

Sakura and Neville glanced at each other, mystified. Then they moved to follow.

The halls were quiet, though some of them were in ruins. They picked up a trail and began to follow it cautiously, Naruto on point. The further they got, the louder the sounds of people grew. Finally, they were almost on top of them.

They paused there, trying to decide on the best course of action. Eventually Neville stepped out, his hands held high.

"I surrender!"

He was taken immediately. A giant slammed him into a wall then dragged him to a ragged bunch of wizards. For a moment they stared at him; then the shouting started.

"What the hell is this?!"

"Kill him!"

"He's one of them!"

Neville let the shouting wash over him. The debate raged for a few minutes. At one point he was hauled up as unseen hands placed a rope around his neck, intent on hanging him on the spot, but wiser heads prevailed, and he was dragged through the corridors to meet 'Scarface'.

He looked up briefly, and saw the confirmation. Naruto and Sakura were right behind him, following from the shadows.

* * *

The last of the insects was dead, and wizards and witches began gathering up wands, feeling as though a lost limb was returned. Sasuke slumped down in a corner, exhausted from the work. The insects were stronger that he had expected, very fast and extremely vicious. Trying to take out that many, even if it was one at a time, was a sure way to die. He felt his chakra working, slowly re-fuelling and refreshing the tired muscles. It was a use they had never taught him in the village; rather it came from Orochimaru's lessons. He had been very knowledgeable about using chakra to supplement one's physical condition; this technique had been one of his first discoveries as a way of keeping up with Jiraiya's enormous stamina. Unfortunately, it was a two-edged sword, as overuse would prohibit one from doing even the most basic jutsu.

Releasing the technique, he stood, hiding the soreness he felt. Harry was leading a council of sorts, debating with the wizards and witches whether to leave or to try and destroy the complex and the tower. Many of them were keen to leave, but when Harry pointed out that leaving the facility intact could allow them to be recaptured, some wavered. Sasuke had no interest in the intentions of his fellow-inmates. He desired revenge, and would stop at nothing to get it.

He heard the sound of a large group approaching, and slowly moved to intercept them. Harry was far faster to react, which was why he was the first one to see the prisoner.

"_Neville?!_"

Neville grinned at him weakly. "Hi, Harry. What's new?"

One of the wizards came forward. "You know this guy?"

Harry nodded, too stunned to speak. Sasuke came forward. "Leave us with him. We'll interrogate him then decide what to do."

Everyone left, leaving Harry and Sasuke with the former Gryffindor. Harry was still wordless, while Sasuke seemed to be considering something. Neville looked from one to the other, then addressed Harry.

"We're here to rescue you, but it looks like you're way ahead of us."

Harry grinned uncertainly. "Well, breaking out of prisons is a family habit."

Neville nodded. "Like godfather, like godson?"

"Something like that… Wait, we? Who else?!"

Sasuke spoke before Neville could frame a reply. "He means my former comrades. Sakura, Naruto, you can come out now."

The shadows shifted and swirled. The two Konoha shinobi stepped forward.

"Hello, Sasuke. Long time, huh."

Sasuke sighed. "Naruto… you moron."

Harry stared at them, then looked back at Neville. "Why don't you tell me exactly what's going on?"

Neville smiled briefly, and complied, starting with what everything they had learned from the day the Boy-Who-Lived disappeared to their last briefing from Shikamaru.

When he was done, silence reigned. Then Naruto spoke.

"We need to move now. We have to get all the prisoners to the portal and back to the safe house. I'll lead the…"

"No."

Naruto stared. Sasuke was speaking now, his voice low and urgent. "I'm not leaving until we terminate Wyrn, and neither is Scarface over here."

Sakura looked stunned. "But what about the plan? We went to a lot of difficulty to get to you and secure an exit, and we can't go back on it…"

Almost automatically, Sasuke had taken charge. Naruto was fuming. Despite everything they had been through, despite the long years apart, despite how much he had grown as a shinobi, Sasuke was still one step ahead of him, assuming the role of leader as if it was here by right. He could feel the childish anger welling up, and barely stopped himself from yelling at the dark-haired Uchiha at the top of his voice.

"This is how we proceed. Two of you will take the rest of the prisoners via the portal to the safe house. Only take wizards. The trolls and the giants won't be in a mood to co-operate, and I want them to be part of the exit strategy. The rest of us will assault the tower. It's likely to be guarded, so we need maximum firepower to break through."

Sakura frowned. "Which two are on escort duty?" she asked, knowing the answer.

Sasuke smiled grimly. "You and this wizard here. It makes tactical sense, Sakura, so do it. Besides, Naruto and I know how to work with each other."

Sakura nodded. "Fine, but I'll stay behind at the portal until you meet me."

Sasuke shrugged. "As you will. Now, let's move out."

Gathering the prisoners was an extremely quick affair. The wizards, once issued with their wands, were starting to get nervous about the number of giants and trolls wandering around in such a blood-thirsty state. Once Neville and Harry explained to them what they had to do, they all agreed whole-heartedly. A short roll-call followed, where those prepared to testify immediately were taken to one side and sent on ahead with Neville to proceed directly to the Burrow, while the rest were issued with summoning charms so they could respond to the call from wherever they were and then were led en masse to the portal.

The non-human prisoners were single-mindedly focused on destroying as much of the prison as possible with their bare hands. The remaining team left them to it, and proceeded to the tower.

Naruto grinned suddenly. "We have two operatives currently focused on the tower. One shinobi, one wizard. Well, witch."

Sasuke didn't seem curious, but Harry was clearly fascinated. "Who?"

Naruto didn't reply, but merely smiled mysteriously. They were near the tower now. Harry scanned the ground eagerly, then he saw it. A shape, seated on a flat stone beside the smooth wall of the spire. Something about it tugged his memory. Then he yelped with delight and sprinted towards it.

"Hermione!!!"

She looked up, then she was running too. He caught her in an embrace, laughing delightedly. "I thought… I thought I'd never see you again!"

She was too emotional to speak. Instead, she hugged him tighter. Sasuke and Naruto caught up with them. Their expressions gave nothing away, but they both had the same thought: _At least _we_ have some dignity…_

When the two friends were finally calm, Sasuke cleared his throat. "Not to be rude, but we do have some work to do."

Blushing, Harry and Hermione disentangled themselves from each other. Sasuke looked around the area. "Where's the other one?"

"Right here."

Sasuke felt the chill wash over him as he heard the voice that had haunted his every waking moment since the night his family were killed. He turned slowly, the shock clear on his face, and stared at the man he had sworn to kill, then gasped in astonishment.

Naruto turned to Sasuke. "I'm sorry. He said he had to come with us, and we didn't have a choice."

Sasuke's shock had passed. Instead, a smirk stood on his face. He looked at his brother sharply, as if calculating something. "Naruto, you really _are_ a moron."

Naruto was furious. "What the hell do you mean, you bastard?!"

Sasuke was still smiling. "Use that ugly thing you call a brain. How many shinobi have the Sharingan?"

Naruto spat out the reply. "Two. You and your brother."

Sasuke nodded. "And how many can you name with a Sharingan in one eye only?"

The blond-nin looked confused. "None. Well, except for…" Realisation dawned, and he stared at the elder Uchiha, unable to speak.

Sasuke was still smiling. "Exactly." He turned to his brother. "I think you have some explaining to do."

Itachi looked rueful. "How did you figure it out? My Sharingan is more powerful than yours; you should have been completely fooled."

Sasuke shrugged. "An expert with a rock can still beat a novice with a knife. Besides, no matter how strong you make the illusion, you can't hide the colour of your chakra." He stepped closer to the man. "You may as well drop it."

The man nodded. Slowly his features shifted and he seemed to grow on the spot, except that seeming had nothing to do with it. He was growing, becoming a few inches taller, slightly broader, with a crest of silvery hair on his head. Finally he stood in front of them in his true form.

Naruto gulped. "Is that really you?"

Hatake Kakashi, former ANBU of Konoha, former Jounin of Team Seven, believed MIA since his last mission to Britain and now a fully-fledged S-class missing-nin, didn't reply.

Harry, who had watched this show with a mixture of confusion and shock, finally spoke. "What the hell is going on?"

Naruto nodded. "I think we all want to know. Come on, Kakashi-san, tell us."

Sasuke remained wordless; instead, he simply narrowed his eyes at his former teacher.

Kakashi looked from one to another, and then sighed. "We don't have time for this now. Let's eliminate the wizard, then we can listen to explanations."

It was a classic compromise: no-one was happy.

* * *

**A/N: Well, I wanted to finish the whole thing off, but realised once I hit the 3500 mark that it might be better to split it into two. Hope you enjoy!**


	11. Endgame, Pt 2: The Turn

"The Tribunal will now hear the testimony of Hermione Jean Granger."

Hermione stepped forward, poker-faced., and walked to the stand. She raised her hand and stood while the Magistrate cast the oath-spell, speaking only to give her agreement to the binding. Then she waited patiently for the interrogation to start.

The Accuser had finished sorting through his notes, and now approached her. "You are Hermione Jean Granger, correct?"

"Yes."

"Are you female?"

"Yes."

"Are you a witch?"

"Yes."

"Does the sun rise in the west?"

"Yes." A loud sound was emitted, signalling her lie. Satisfied with the test questions, the Accuser proceeded to the matter at hand.

"Explain to us the situation you found yourself in upon entry to the tower of the wizard known as Wyrn."

Hermione took a deep breath.

* * *

The room was empty.

It took them five minutes to search it, and there was not a soul anywhere. They found a medium-sized dining area, replete with an enchanted kitchen; a few barrack rooms and a guard-commander's office, but nothing living.

That wasn't to say there was nothing of interest. Harry noticed it first. The tower was designed according to a "core-shell" structure: an outer shell built around an inner core. The core was impressive, as they found when trying to break through it: granite sheets encasing an iron wall lined with protective runes and magically strengthened so as to be impregnable in a very literal sense. Harry surmised that the iron was in turn encased around another wall, but he couldn't figure out what lay behind it. There was a door the structure, though it was only differentiated from the rest of the wall by an outline. There were no visible hinges or lock, and it seemed just as unyielding to physical assault.

Naruto had suggested that they proceed. The three of them ran up the stairs to a new floor. Again, it was empty. The pattern repeated itself twice more.

They still noticed things about the tower. The first thing was that the staircases switched location on every floor, but the door to the core structure didn't. Each floor was slightly smaller than the last, by a matter of metres, showing evidence of a tiered structure, which was odd as from the outside it seemed perfectly straight. Harry thought that there might be some sort of secret passage system hidden in the gap between the outside wall and the inner wall on each level, with the inner core functioning like a security staircase allowing quick and easy escape and entry in case of intruders or fire. Hermione was amused at the prospect of a wizard as patently crazy as Wyrn designing his tower according to Muggle health and safety standards. Naruto had remarked that that was probably proof of his insanity, as if any more were needed.

When they reached the last level, the first thing they noticed was the blood pooling through the corridor. The second thing they noticed was the screaming and clashing of weapons against weapons. The third thing they noticed was a group of archers running towards them with the ferocity of those who have seen hell.

Though the group was outnumbered three to one, they were able to make short work of them, and cautiously proceeded to the next room, leaving behind the nine dead archers. What they saw was horrific. A large room, almost like a courtyard, filled Golems and Nagas attacking a horde of demons that were pouring through an open portal. The demons were outnumbered, but reinforcements kept coming through, while the dead on the other side were not replaced. The tide was slowly turning in favour of the demons, who seemed to be led by a disturbingly human-looking creature, albeit with red skin and talons.

Harry spotted the body of the wizard, and dashed to help him. Wyrn was dying, but he was able to speak a little. Apparently, during the breakout from the prison, he had lost control of the demon he had summoned, which proceeded to convert the pentagram into a portal to summon more of his kind. Wyrn had managed to order all of his guards to return to the tower and eliminate the demons, but then was brutally attacked and tossed to the side to watch while his plans came crashing down around him. If the demons were able to reach the portal and flood into the human world, a disaster of apocalyptic proportions would ensue.

Wyrn may have been low on strength, but the information he gave was crucial. Passing Harry a key, he explained that inside the core was an emergency staircase that could take them straight down to the basement. In there was an emergency portal, one-way only, that would take them to the exit portal they arrived through. Also there were several high-grade and high-powered explosives that they should use to destroy the portal. They were set with ten second timers. Wyrn begged Harry to destroy the portal at this end, and therefore trap the demons inside a dimensional fold; only once Harry agreed did he give up his strength and pass on.

The trio made their way carefully to the core structure, and Harry took out the key. The door swung open, and the trio swiftly passed through. A demon attempted to follow them but was incinerated by a black flame; Naruto guessed it must have come from the enchantments on the wall. They proceeded just as they had been instructed and found the materials waiting for them. Taking the explosives, they went through the portal, appearing at their original entry point. They armed the explosives and jumped through, meeting Rock Lee on the other side. A few seconds later…

* * *

"… the portal on this end blew up. And before you ask, no, we had absolutely no idea that would happen. Of course, it makes sense now, but we didn't realise that two ends of a portal are linked to the extent that if one is destroyed so is the other."

The Accuser made a note of her comment. "Finally, do you regret your actions?"

Hermione considered the question for a moment, then gave her reply. "No. While I am deeply sorry for the injuries and inconvenience, and will mourn the loss of those two men who were in the wrong place at the wrong time for the rest of my life, I still feel that had we left the portal intact and demons used it to enter our world, all our fates would be far, far worse."

There was a low buzzing through the court as the assembled witches and wizards processed this; the Trial Committee itself seemed engrossed in the debate. Eventually, after a signal from the new Minister for Magic, the Convenor of the Tribunal brought matters to order.

"Miss Granger, you may leave the stand."

She rose, nodding her acknowledgement, and gave a slight curtsey to the Accuser, who grunted sourly as she passed. She took her seat next to Ron, who gave her a covert thumbs-up and a wink.

"How was I?"

Ron grinned. "Fabulous" he whispered. "I hope it wasn't too hard for you!"

Hermione nearly giggled. "Mad-Eye seemed ready to bend over backwards to make it easier on me. How did you swing him for the Accuser?"

Ron shrugged. "It was my idea to have the Tribunal. Kingsley chose the people. After a consultation session. Besides, it's open and shut. After Luna leaked the dossier in _The Quibbler_ there was no way you or Harry could be sentenced."

He looked back at the stand. "Speak of the devil…"

Harry smiled his thanks at the Magistrate, then faced Moody, utterly relaxed.

Moody looked at him sternly. "Are you Harry James Potter?"

"Yes."

"Are you a wizard?"

"Are you male?"

"Yes."

"Does the sun rise in the west?"

"Yes."

Once again, the sound was emitted, signalling the lie.

Satisfied, Moody continued. "Please give us your story of what occurred upon your entry to the tower of the wizard known as Wyrn."

Harry smiled.

* * *

The room was empty.

It took them ten minutes to search it, and there was not a soul anywhere. They found a medium-sized dining area, replete with an enchanted kitchen; a few barrack rooms and a guard-commander's office, but nothing living.

That wasn't to say there was nothing of interest. Hermione noticed it first. The tower was designed according to a "core-shell" structure: an outer shell built around an inner core. The core was impressive, as they found when trying to break through it: granite sheets encasing an iron wall lined with protective runes and magically strengthened so as to be impregnable in a very literal sense. Hermione surmised that the iron was in turn encased around another wall, but he couldn't figure out what lay behind it. There was a door the structure, though it was only differentiated from the rest of the wall by an outline. There were no visible hinges or lock, and it seemed just as unyielding to physical assault.

Harry had suggested that they proceed. The three of them ran up the stairs to a new floor. Again, it was empty. The pattern repeated itself twice more.

They still noticed things about the tower. The first thing was that the door to the core structure switched location on every floor, but the staircases didn't. Each floor was the same size as the last, showing evidence of a cylindrical structure, which was odd as from the outside it appeared to be a tiered structure. Hermione thought that there might be a sort of emergency escape system using the tiered portions of the outside walls, with the inner core functioning like a security staircase allowing quick and easy escape and entry in case of intruders or fire. Naruto was amused at the prospect of a wizard as patently crazy as Wyrn designing his tower according to normal health and safety standards. Harry had remarked that that was probably proof of his insanity, as if any more were needed.

When they reached the last level, the first thing they noticed was the blood pooling through the corridor. The second thing they noticed was the screaming and clashing of weapons against weapons. The third thing they noticed was a group of warriors running towards them with the ferocity of those who have seen hell.

Though the group was outnumbered two to one, they were able to make short work of them, and swiftly proceeded to the next room, leaving behind the six dead warriors. What they saw was horrific. A large room, almost like a courtyard, filled with Vampires and Fair Folk attacking a horde of demons that were pouring through an open portal. The demons were outnumbered, but reinforcements kept coming through, while the dead on the other side were not replaced. The tide was slowly turning in favour of the demons, who seemed to be led by a viscious monstrosity, nine feet tall with black skin and huge horns, covered partially with green slime and with a single wing protruding from its shoulder-blades.

Hermione spotted the body of the wizard, and dashed to help him. Wyrn was dying, but he was able to speak a little. Apparently, during the breakout from the prison, he had lost control of the demon he had summoned, which proceeded to convert the pentagram into a portal to summon more of his kind. Wyrn had managed to order all of his guards to return to the tower and eliminate the demons, but then was brutally attacked and tossed to the side to watch while his plans came crashing down around him. If the demons were able to reach the portal and flood into the human world, a disaster of apocalyptic proportions would ensue.

Wyrn may have been low on strength, but the information he gave was crucial. Passing Hermione a key, he explained that inside the core was an emergency staircase that could take them straight down to the basement. In there was an emergency portal, one-way only, that would take them to the exit portal they arrived through. Also there were several high-grade and high-powered explosives that they should use to destroy the portal. They were set with fifteen-second timers. Wyrn begged Hermione to destroy the portal at this end, and therefore trap the demons inside a dimensional fold; only once Hermione agreed did he give up his strength and pass on.

The trio made their way quickly to the core structure, Naruto and Harry beating down any attempts by either the demons or the guards to interfere, and Hermione took out the key. The door swung open, and the trio swiftly passed through. A demon attempted to follow them but was incinerated by a black flame; Harry guessed it must have come from the enchantments on the wall. They proceeded just as they had been instructed and found the materials waiting for them. Taking the explosives, they went through the portal, appearing at their original entry point. They armed the explosives and jumped through, meeting Rock Lee on the other side. A few seconds later…

* * *

"… Well, you know as well as I do what happened. The portal exploded. We were almost outside when it happened. Then I woke up in St Mungo's. I only found out about the two men a week later, and I still regret it."

Moody seemed satisfied. Hermione wasn't. She looked at Ron, aghast. "What the hell?"

Ron smirked. "Don't worry."

The whole room was in uproar. Everyone debated the differences between the stories, wondering what on earth it might mean. Both were telling the truth, that was obvious, but how could there be so many discrepancies with their stories?

The Convenor signalled for order. A few minutes passed before he got it. Ron looked at Hermione. "Here it comes."

Hermione was confused until she saw the next witness make her pledge. She gasped. "Ron, you magnificent bastard! That's brilliant!"

Ron gave no answer, but simply smiled.

Moody was speaking. "… Madam Pomfrey, formerly of Hogwarts, now head of the Emergency Ward at St Mungo's. Thank you for taking the time to come here, and thank you for your pledge, which was not required."

Madam Pomfrey inclined her head graciously.

Moody continued. "Could you please testify as to the health of the two individuals whose testimony we have just heard?"

Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat. "On my oath as a healer, and by the pledge of honesty I have just made, I testify that the two individuals, Harry James Potter and Hermione Jean Granger, are fit and healthy, showing few long-term physical effects from their recent injuries; however, I must inform the court that due to the high-intensity fifth-order magic and dimensional travel they underwent, not to mention the magical radiation backlash from the destruction of the portal, they suffered some minor trauma to their memories, specifically their ability to remember exactly what happened on the other side of the portal. This is because, as is well-known from Abd-al-Hazred's Third Postulate, the human brain is incapable of correctly perceiving and remembering events that happen in a different dimension owing to the divisibility of…"

Hermione stopped listening. She looked at Ron. "That's not true."

Ron shrugged. "No one knows. Abd-al-Hazred was completely insane before he wrote his Postulates, so really they could mean anything we need them to mean. In any case, it's sewn up. You'll be off the hook, with all inconsistencies explained away thanks to Poppy. Harry is a hero again, having saved the world from demons, Kingsley is in power, Moody is out of my hair and the Albardic case is long forgotten. Once the Emergency Powers Act is voted through, we'll have the freedom to help our allies win this war."

Hermione nodded. Ron seemed to be right, though how long it would last would be a different matter. "So that's it then? Case closed?"

Ron frowned. "Not quite. There are still a couple of loose ends."

Hermione's heart started pounding. _He didn't, did he? No, that's impossible…_

He looked at her. "Where did the bodies of the two men go?"

She sighed. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you…"

* * *

**A/N - Almost done. the rest should be up before the end of the week.**

**sorry for the delays, was without internet for almost a year, then my computer died, losing me my stories! still, i have a shiny new one now, so it's all good.**

**P.S. I have the last chapter, but I won't be putting it up until I get a little more feedback. Partly because I am that mean, and partly because I like to keep people in suspense, but mostly because I'm unsure whether or not to have a scene with Voldemort for the epilogue, and I want to put them up together. Sorry...  
**


	12. Endgame, Pt 3: The Prestige

_Two Weeks Earlier:_

_University College Hospital, London_

"Easy, Pete."

Pete looked up and grinned. "Easy, bro. What's happnin?"

The orderly pushed the first cart through the double doors, his assistant close behind. "Not much. Got some guests for you."

Pete nodded. "Safe. Drop 'em over there. They fit or what?"

The orderly chuckled. "They ain't birds, mate. They're a pair of fine gentlemen from that gas ting by Quinby Street."

Pete shrugged. "Fucked up much?"

The orderly didn't answer. He placed the first cart by one slab, then directed his assistant to do the same with the other. Then he looked at Pete. "They ain't exactly fit for Fabric on a Friday, you sick fuck. Laters."

"Safe."

When they were gone, Pete sighed. He didn't really want to start on a new pair of bodies, not now that his shift was almost up. He figured the best thing to do was to put them on ice until his relief came. Then he glanced at the watch. His shift had just ended. _Fuck it_, he thought. _I'll just hand 'em over straight_.

On cue, Rosie marched into the room. She was a pretty, albeit slightly Goth, girl, very much into the whole fuck-you-don't-mess-with-me routine. Pete had tried every trick he could think of, and had failed. He grinned at her. "Oy, Rosie, I got two lads here, perfect for you!"

Rosie raised an eyebrow. "They any good?"

Pete shrugged. "Why you askin? They're dead, that's what you're on, right?"

Rosie pursed her lips. "True, I do like them dead. They're far better conversationalists. And at least they can keep it up."

Pete struggled for a retort. He kept struggling. "Yeah, whatever. Safe. See you in the morning."

Rosie permitted herself a slight chuckle at his departure. Then she turned to the matter at hand. _Typical,_ she thought. _Doesn't even offer to help lift the bodies_. Sighing, she grabbed a phone to call one of the techs for help.

After a few minutes work, the two bodies were laid out on their slabs. Rosie looked at them. _Hmm. Cute. Which one do I pick, pretty Pirate or pretty Goth?_ She sighed. _Ah, decisions, decisions…_

She went for the Pirate. "Sorry, emo-boy, but you're just a little too close to puberty for me." She chuckled again.

She wandered to the prep area and began to clean up for the autopsy, humming _Sweet Dreams_. She walked back into the room, and began to cut the clothes away from the pretty, white—haired pirate lover she had just picked up. On impulse, she began to sing. "_Sweet dreams are made of these…"_

"Who am I to disagree?"

She froze.

Slowly, she turned around. Emo-boy was wide awake and standing. "I travelled the world and the Seven Seas…"

He stalked towards her. "Everybody's looking for something."

He looked at her coldly. "What are you looking for?"

She struggled to answer him, then, gathering herself, she screamed.

Or tried to.

The hand clamped around her mouth, and she heard a soft voice whisper "I'm so sorry, miss."

Then blackness…

* * *

Sasuke looked at his former teacher. "You're sorry?"

Kakashi shrugged. "Well, I didn't mean to scare her to death."

They stared at each other for a moment. Finally Sasuke looked away. "Now what?"

Kakashi didn't reply. He was already moving to the double doors. "We've got a clear route from here to the exit. Time to use the Henge."

* * *

_The Same Day, several hours earlier:_

The last elf hit the ground. Describing his expression would have been difficult, though perhaps the word surprised would have been a start. It mattered little. He was, to use the vernacular, dead as a doornail.

Hermione was panting raggedly. The fight had been difficult for her. She briefly regretted not keeping up with her training, before exhaustion drove even that from her mind. She looked up at the white-haired shinobi who had just saved her life and said "What now, genius?"

Kakashi frowned. He was about to reply, then thought better of it. Instead, he walked over to Sasuke. "Let's move."

The Uchiha followed him, Naruto and the rest close behind. The hall was now empty.

A small amount of dust trickled from the ceiling. It was quickly followed by several bodies slamming into the floor, adding to the pile of corpses. An observer would have been shocked at the quantity, though that probably would have been the second thing on his mind.

Throwing up would have been the first.

The tower was empty. At least, it was now. They had been greeted by a horde of battered and bleeding guards from a variety of species. Thankfully they must have been fairly weary from their last struggle, or survival would have been almost impossible. As the group moved further up, they found more corpses, all fresh and all savagely mutilated. They looked like they had died of their wounds while running from a battle of monstrous proportions. Ironic, as Harry pointed out, given that most of them were monsters.

Most of the tower was blackened and burned. They passed the remnants of a barracks, a library and what may have been a treasure room, but was now more of a charnel house. The higher they ascended, the more different the corpses. In addition to the guards, there were green lumps of miscellaneous origin. It took a while to learn that they were from whatever had attacked the tower before them.

The door to Wyrn's laboratory was impressive. Two and a half feet thick and seven feet high, it was made from iron plate around a granite core, with no visible lock, covered in powerful runes of protection. It would have been a real challenge to break through.

Luckily, someone helpful had ripped it from its hinges and hurled it down the stairs.

The lab itself reeked of chemicals, putrefaction and blood, but mostly of blood. Bodies, broken glass and fire filled the room, though the centre was oddly clear, apart from a neatly beheaded human corpse.

Harry was the first to break. "Ok, what the fuck happened here?"

Kakashi and Sasuke were observing the scene, cataloguing the details and trying to make sense of what happened. Finally, Kakashi spoke. "Well, I'd say that the human summoned a demon, which summoned more demons, which led to a slaughter. Oh, and one of the guards beheaded the wizard."

He looked at Sasuke. "Do you concur?"

Sasuke shrugged. "Sounds about right."

Silence reigned for a while, as each person took a moment to ponder the follies of consorting with demons. Naruto finally shattered the calm. "What happens now?"

Hermione cleared her throat. "We go back through the portal. Sakura and Neville should have gotten the prisoners to Kingsley, so the vote of no-confidence will be being held now."

Kakashi looked at her. "What happens to Sasuke and me?"

Naruto frowned. "I guess you come back to Konoha."

"No."

They turned. Sasuke stood, fists clenched, jaw set in his resolve. "You can go where you want, but I'm going to find by brother."

Kakashi's smile was hidden by his mask, but even then it was hard to see. "I'll be going my own way as well. The village thinks I'm dead, and I'm going to have to stay that way for a while."

Naruto shook his head. "I can't accept that, Kakashi-sensei. Tsunade-sama would want you back. Besides, you still have to explain what the hell you've been doing!"

Harry stared at the proceedings in horror. He'd seen this already many times while inside. The air was already thick with tension, and a fight looked likely. Carefully he moved to the side, palming his wand. Hermione was the only one to notice, and she sensibly moved for cover.

Sasuke was speaking. "You think you can stop me?"

Naruto smirked. "You've been gone a long time, Sasuke-chan. I'll take both of you at the same time!" He began to unleash his chakra, hands flashing swiftly. Sasuke leapt to the side, Sharingan flaring to life. Kakashi sighed as he withdrew several kunai…

"STUPEFY!"

The Stunning spell flashed across the room, striking the ninja squarely in the back of the head. Naruto went down like lead balloon.

Harry stood, wand extended. "Go."

Sasuke grinned at his fellow ex-inmate. "Thanks, Scarface." He shattered a window and leapt through it. Kakashi sighed. "Bye. Thanks for your help." He followed Sasuke through the window.

Naruto was stirring. Hermione gulped. "Harry! He's coming round!"

_Ah, shit_, Harry thought. _How the hell are we going to sort this out?_

_

* * *

_

They did the negotiating on the run.

Sasuke and Kakashi were a good ten minutes ahead of them, but they were closing the gap fast.

Naruto wasn't too angry, but he drove a hard bargain. As recompense for the attack, and not informing Konoha, Harry and Hermione would hand responsibility for Sasuke and Kakashi to the shinobi, and give any assistance covertly. At least, that was the start. Naruto hinted that Hinata might extract more concessions later.

They made it to the portal in record time. Naruto was getting reckless. He leapt straight into the portal, no thought of whether or not it might be trapped. Harry and Hermione were more cautious. They took a few moments to scan the area before stepping through…

Feeling like their kidneys had been pulled out via their nose, they saw what had made Naruto freeze. Every inch of the room was lined with paper.

Harry looked at the shinobi. "Who did the decorating?"

Naruto shook his head. "They're explosive tags. They're set to go off if touched... NO!"

He was too late. Hermione had stumbled and fallen, hitting one of the tags.

Everything burst into flames…

* * *

"_How the hell did you learn to do Tsukuyomi?"_

_Kakashi smiled. They were in Konoha again, beside the Hero's Monument. He liked it there. It was the closest he could get to Obito now that he was on the run. "Your brother taught me."_

_Sasuke was speechless. "Since my untimely demise, I've been working with him. He taught me a number of techniques."_

_Sasuke struggled to speak. Finally, he composed himself. Then he launched himself at his former sensei._

_The ait turned solid. Sasuke was frozen in place, utterly incapable of movement. Kakashi sighed. "I'm sorry, Sasuke. But right now, you need to listen. I've been trying to find you for a long time. Your brother told me to bring you to him. Don't worry about why. Suffice it to say that it's important enough that I would become a missing-nin to carry out his wishes."_

_He paused. "We have a lot of time here, but I'd rather keep things simple. You have to come with me. I'll take you to your brother, and then my work is done. What you do from there is up to you. Kiss him, kill him, it's all the same to me. I won't try to dissuade you from taking revenge. Right now, our priority is to escape from our former comrades and their allies. So here's what I propose to do."_

_Sasuke listened to the Copy-nin outline his plan for escape. It was thorough, covering all the angles, just what he'd expect from the man. Finally, the air returned to normal, and he fell to the ground._

"_Do you accept?"_

_It was a long time before Sasuke spoke. "Yes."_

_

* * *

_

Setting up the tags had been easy. Kakashi led the Uchiha to the fire escape, where he pulled out a bag and tossed it to his former pupil. Swiftly, they dressed in Muggle street clothes. Kakashi laid down one more tag. They climbed onto the fire escape. Before they leapt to street level, Kakashi hurled a kunai at the tag. The explosion was small, but loud. They leapt to the street. Then they each hit the other in a pressure point near the throat. To all intents and purposes, they were dead.

They had timed it perfectly. Rock Lee ran inside to search for the source of the explosion, moments before the big bang kicked in.

"So did they find them?"

Hermione looked puzzled. "I thought you'd know about that."

Ron shook his head. "Shikamaru is playing it close to the chest, though I can tell that Hinata and Sakura are furious."

Hermione shrugged. "Then I guess they escaped. To be honest, I'm not sure what happened after the explosion. Somehow, Naruto and Rock Lee saved us, but even so, we were fairly hurt. The Muggle Emergency Services must have arrived, followed by St Mungo's ER. We were whisked off to St Mungo's, and then we got into contact with Ginny."

Ron nodded. "She couldn't speak to me until Kingsley ordered my release. I spoke to Shikamaru and Hinata before I came to see you, and they made me understand the importance keeping this under wraps, so I came up with something. Harry and Lupin helped me with some of the finer details."

Hermione frowned. "Should we really be talking about this in a public place?"

Ron grinned. He withdrew a small black cube from his robes. "Don't worry. This will ensure anyone listening to us hears a conversation about the Cannons."

She snickered. "I can't believe you still support them. Merlin's beard, they're in League Two! At the bottom of the table!"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Shut up, glory hunter. I can't believe you bought a Bradford Blues shirt. Just because Krum signed for them and they're loaded…"

"Shut up, Ron" said Hermione testily.

They were silent for a few moments. "So what now?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," he replied, "but I think things are going to get a whole lot worse."

"How so?"

Ron didn't answer. During his mercifully brief incarceration, he had brooded at length over what would happen when they succeeded with their scheme. On the bright side, they now had a strong and stable government, willing to pursue the war and free of any lingering pro-Fudge and pro-Death Eater sentiment. They also had Harry back, which would be a powerful symbol the country could rally behind. Ron was a little guilty about using his best friend so shamelessly, but he figured that it was what the man had been born to do. All in all, things were looking rosy.

Except…

Now that they were fully committed to the war, the tenor of the conflict would get a lot worse. Voldemort was smart. As long as Britain was not a clear and present threat, he would be the same. Now? He'd have to commit a significantly stronger force to deal with them, or face a massive assault against one of his bases. And Britain at the moment was in no shape to deal with large-scale warfare, especially not this kind. Despite the propaganda, they could only muster a maximum of two hundred trained operatives, with roughly the same still in training, and that was across the board, not just the Special Forces. Voldemort could easily muster ten times that, with more if called upon, not to mention use of giants, trolls and other, less savoury creatures. Britain would not last long against a powerful strike, and Voldemort had to know that. A quick action here, and Britain would be taken out of the war altogether, giving the Snake King a free hand against the Shinobi Villages. Besides, Europe was stirring too, especially the Eastern countries. There were many who would respond to the call of a Dark Wizard with his banners raised, and the governments there would be easy meat for a determined movement. Bulgaria's fragile coalition, Romania's endless elections, none would stand a chance against a coup d'état. Freeing Harry and bringing Thicknesse down might have been the right thing to do, but they would have consequences, and eventually they would present their bill.

Ron didn't want to think of how heavy it would be.

* * *

"What do you think, Shikamaru?"

He looked up. Naruto had plainly just asked a question, and Sakura and Hinata were clearly waiting on his reply. He coughed. "Well…"

Naruto swore. "_Kuso!_ You're not even listening, are you!"

Rubbing his temple, Shikamaru answered. "I was listening. Just not paying attention."

Everyone was silent. He continued. "You guys are way off. We don't need to send a team to France. They haven't left the country."

Now he had them. Naruto nearly fell out of his chair, Sakura gasped and Hinata…

Hinata didn't really react, confirming his suspicion that she was much better-informed than she let on.

He waited a moment longer, then gave his explanation. "They went to a Muggle hospital, from which they disappeared a few hours later. Surveillance cameras pick them up, no disguises, buying tickets at St Pancras for Paris. Then we have them boarding the train an hour later. By the time we found out, the train was long gone, and we can't intercept them anywhere, right?"

They nodded. He shook his head. "Wrong. They never got on the train! Don't speak, just listen. Kakashi was working with Itachi when he faked his death, then he reappears disguised _as_ Itachi to rescue Sasuke. If Kakashi can fake his death, I'm fairly certain that Itachi did the same. They've been working together for the past two years. Given that Kakashi has been off-the-grid all that time, it's fairly likely that he's been based on this side of the world. Itachi claimed ill-health for his retirement, so it's likely he can't move around much, meaning that if he disappeared here, he probably stayed here."

Naruto frowned. "This seems like a lot of hearsay and conjecture…"

Shikamaru laughed. "Maybe. But here's the killer. At the station, they go to the restaurant area at the back. There's a sushi place there. That's where they want to eat. Now, pay attention. Two guys, two suitcases. One guy goes to the bathroom. He takes his suitcase. He comes back with the suitcase. The second guy does the same. Comes back. Then they eat. They pay. They have a coffee. Then they get on the train.

Seems fine, right? Except you have to watch it closely. The only place that's not covered by CCTV or any other kind of surveillance we can hack into is a toilet cubicle. There are laws about that here. The guy goes into the cubicle. Inside, he makes two clones, and changes it to look like the suitcase. The clone goes out with the fake suitcase. Other guy does the same thing. Then the clones get on the train. Meanwhile, the originals with the original suitcases do another henge on themselves and the original suitcases and leave them at the left-luggage office. They then exit, one at a time, via the Underground route. On the train, the clones disappear. Perfect. Now the only thing that we have is two empty seats on a train to Paris, while our guys have disappeared."

Naruto's mouth was open. "How did you figure this out?"

Shimakaru shrugged. "While you guys were sending messages to Konoha demanding a team to investigate Paris, I simply called Eurostar. I told them I was an Interpol agent looking for two key witnesses in a terrorism case. They were more than happy to help. . There were thiry-two empty seats on the train. Only twenty-eight hadn't been sold, meaning that four were for people who hadn't shown up. A little cross-checking with the time of the sale on the camera told me that two of those four were the ones bought by Kakashi and Sasuke. Why would they use their faces when buying tickets when they'd used the henge to get out of the hospital? Only if they wanted us to _see_ them doing it, meaning that it must be false information. Once you know that, it's just a matter of figuring the trick."

Sakura nodded. "So what now?"

Hinata took over. "We'll need to do some leg-work to find out where they went, but with luck, we'll be able to pick up their trail. Once they meet Itachi, it'll be more difficult for them to travel."

Naruto looked at the group. "Well, let's get to work."

* * *

Sasuke looked at his former teacher. "How long do you reckon we have?"

They had been travelling for two weeks, using every trick they could think of to shake off a tail, real or imagined. There was no way they could be followed.

"Maybe a day at best. They must have realised we didn't leave on the train. They'll have picked us up from the taxi, and they'll find our trail from the village."

Sasuke nodded, though he was a little dubious of the man's logic. "So what are we doing here?"

Kakashi ignored him. Itachi was late, and that was making him worried. The plan had so far flawless, right down to Sasuke's recognition of Kakashi, but this last-minute delay was not at all right.

A rustling sound made them both jump, but they relaxed when a squirrel bolted through the clearing. Sasuke smiled ruefully. _Jumping at shadows like a genin… Ridiculous._ He scanned the clearing. Kakashi was still sitting on the tree-stump. The shadows had lengthened considerably now. _Strange… it almost looks like a shape in there_. He froze. There _was_ a shape. A distinctly human sized shape. Sasuke tensed. _Itachi!_ He leapt at the shape, Chidori flaring to life, his chakra hurling him forward at impossible speed.

The man didn't move. Sasuke went straight through him, ploughing into a tree. He never saw the counter-blow that knocked him unconscious.

Kakashi didn't turn around. "That's a new trick. I guess you're cured now."

There was no reply. Kakashi frowned. He turned. "You're not who I'm expecting."

"No, I'm not. But shit happens, right?"

For the first time in his life, Kakashi felt an icy terror creep down his spine. He had never heard the man's voice before, never seen him in the flesh, but the description was perfect.

"Are you going to kill me?"

Uchiha Madara smiled beneath his mask. "Why would I do something like that, when you've been so helpful to me?"

Kakashi shuddered. "You want Sasuke."

Madara picked up the body. Kakashi stood. "I won't let you take him."

"Let has nothing to do with it."

Kakashi smiled. "Maybe. But it will take a while for you to kill me, and Itachi will be here any moment. I know you're weaker than when you fought Senjuu, and Itachi is very, very dangerous. You really willing to go up against us both?"

Madara gazed at him flatly. "You think I wouldn't?"

The question hung in the air. In that moment, Kakashi understood he was going to die. _Well, I'm not going down without a fight. Itachi, I hope you taught me well. Obito, I guess I might see you sooner than I thought…_

He lifted his headband, Mangekyo Sharingan flaring to life. Timing… Timing was everything. Itachi had told him that Madara could phase himself in and out of existence, but had to be solid in order to attack. His hand flared with energy. It would have to be a counter-attack.

Madara was too fast.

Blood was filling Kakashi's lungs. He looked down at the spear sticking from the wound in his chest, then looked at Madara. He tried to speak, but a river of blood poured from his mouth, choking his words.

Dimly, he heard Madara speaking before he vanished, carrying Sasuke with him. He struggled to move, but he had no strength. Finally, the struggles ceased.

Hatake Kakashi was dead.

* * *

**A/N: Enjoy! Epilogue up soon.**


	13. Epilogue

Epilogue

* * *

Voldemort stopped paying attention long before the man finished speaking. Twirling his wand idly, he performed a series of mental exercises to calm his fury. Rage, he had learned, while useful in small doses, what utterly unhelpful for planning of any kind. A flicker of amusement passed over his face. _Perhaps that is why so many of my schemes went awry..._ It mattered little. The man he was no longer truly existed. Rather, only the best part had remained: the talent, the hunger and the cruelty. Allied to his new intelligence and pragmatism, he felt complete. Whole. _Perfect..._

The situation was not irredeemable. Of course, Britain would pose a threat, but he had not been idle. Bulgaria would soon be his, as would Romania and Albania. With those three, he could carry his banner into the heart of the Balkans, and then sweep over Turkey like the Golden Horde, before taking the Levant, his final aim.

_Who holds the Crescent holds the world..._ So it was written by Abd al-Hazred, a wizard of rare talent, knowledge and wisdom. His _Powers of the Air and Fire_ was still regarded as the definitive text on the Dark Arts, but the man had written far more, on scrolls of human skin with the blood of princes. No sbject escaped this master's attention: spells, blood magic, demons, inter-dimensional travel, religion, poetry, history, mathematics, medicine... Voldemort had been fortunate enough to obtain a few from the dead wizard Wyrn before his experiment had ultimately killed him, but he still lacked the key, the main prize: _Kitab al-Azif_, more commonly known (among those initiated to the blackest of knowledge) as the _Necronomicon_. Abd al-Hazred had been utterly insane when it was finished, though whether that was because of the book, or because the man was born several twigs short of a broomstick, was still a matter for debate. Voldemort tended to the second opinion. The _Necronomicon _contained magic more powerful than any in existence, but more importantly, it contained the secrets of the Old Ones, such as how to control the Great Beast... With that prize, even Akatsuki would be forced to submit to his will.

Unfortunately, the only copy was in Syria, in a monastery in the mountains, guarded by a force too powerful to assault directly. Voldemort knew he would find a way. It was, after all, his destiny.

A gesture sent the man cringing. Voldemort rose from his throne and, with a snap of the fingers, summoned his servants. "Begin the plans for the Balkans. You have three months to control the region. I want to begin the invasion of Turkey by the summer."

His servants nodded and muttered their assent, and were promptly dismissed by their master. Voldemort resumed his thoughts of the Book. _Soon...

* * *

_

Itachi laid the body down gently and carefully began wiping the blood away. He cursed himself for not arriving sooner, for being over-cautious about pursuit. As it was, he had been unable to prevent what happened.

The clearing still hung heavy with the traces of Madara's foul presence, but the Uchiha prodigy paid it no mind. His attention was focused entirely on the body of his friend. Sighing, he spoke.

"You're either mad or an idiot."

Kakashi smiled weakly. "You could call me brave. And it did surprise you."

Itachi shook his head in despair. "I told you a million times. Never, ever, EVER, use Izanagi for more than ten seconds. It's supposed to buy you time for a counter-attack, not give you immortality! As it is, you have a collapsed lung, your heart nearly stopped and you won't walk for another three months unless I can find a wizard healer who can keep his mouth shut."

Kakashi let the tirade wash over him. He had held the illusion on himself for 11 seconds. Another three, and Obito's eye would have gone blind forever. He'd had no choice. To let it go too early would have meant Madara killing him for real. Still, he was thankful. It had been far too close.

Itachi froze. "We have company."

Kakashi struggled to look up. What he saw made his heart sink like a stone. There, in the middle of the clearing, stood Naruto, Sakura and Shikamaru. He turned back to Itachi. "What now?"

Itachi stood. "We need to get him to St Mungo's. I'll explain everything to you once he's safely in care."

* * *

_One week later, Konoha_

Godaime Hokage Tsunade sat in her office, a cup of sake on the desk. She sipped from it as she read the report. Naruto and Rock Lee were returning from their assignment in Britain, and were bringing two allies for a technical meeting with her. She was a little perplexed. Liaison with the allies was not her job. Still, she was willing to give them a few hours, given their achievements in Britain. Plans were already afoot to open up a front there, relieving pressure on Konoha and the other allied villages, and allowing the Five Nations to focus on Akatsuki, who had taken advantage of the chaos to add four more tailed-beasts to the Shukaku they had extracted.

The clock struck twelve, and Tsunade carefully placed the report and the cup out of sight on the desk. She rose, and faced the window. The port-key began to vibrate and spin, and suddenly four figures collapsed on her floor. She didn't turn around until she was certain they had composed themselves. It would be a terrible thing to humiliate people she was supposed to be rewarding.

When all seemed ready, she sat back at her desk. Naruto and Rock Lee looked a little nervous, which was very much out of character. The two allies seemed utterly timid, unwilling to look her in the eye. She decided to put them at ease. "On behalf of the Fire Daimyo, and the Village of Hidden Leaf, I welcome you here. Before we begin any meetings, I would like to ask you to take a tour of our Village, so you may become more accustomed to your new surroundings." She gave them a dazzling smile, which turned to horror as they looked up.

"I'm afraid the tour won't be necessary, Hokage-Sama. We both know this village like the back of our hand. And I think you may find it more useful to move straight to the discussion. We are here to return to the village, and assist you in the conduct of your war in any way we can. We have valable information for you, and we are not exactly unskilled. We beg for an official pardon, and re-instatement in the official rolls."

The Fifth Hokage stared at Uchiha Itachi and Hatake Kakashi, and knew only one thing:

_Things would never be the same again...

* * *

_

_**A/N - The End... (for now)**_

_**Hope you enjoyed the show!  
**_


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